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ROBIN REDBREAST’S 
HOME 



Don’t kill the birds , the little birds 
That sing about your door 
Soon as the joyous spring has come 
And chilly winds are o’er. 











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ROBIN 

REDBREAST’S HOME 

By Clara J. Denton 



Sue Seeley 

“A JUST RIGHT BOOK! 
PUBLISHED BY 

ALBERT WHITMAN CO. 

CHICAGO U.S.A 




\o\ O-T -3 



Robin Redbreast’s Home 

Copyright 1927 
Albert Whitman & Company 
Chicago, U. S. A. 


OTHER TITLES UNIFORM 
WITH THIS BOOK 


Denton’s Fanciful Tales 
By Clara J. Denton 

Mother Brown Earth’s Children 
By Edna Groff Delhi 

Little Folks From Etiquette Town 
By Laura Rountree Smith 


©C1M06S054 

A “Just Right” Book 
Printed in the United States 


FEB 17’28 




NOTE 


The unusual incidents given in the following pages are verified by the 
actual observers, the numbers appended thereto refer to the names which 
are given in the appendix. 

The incidents marked with an asterisk (*) were seen by the author. 

AUTHORITIES CONSULTED 

“MICHIGAN BIRD LIFE,” by Walter Bradford Barrows. 

“HANDBOOK OF BIRDS OF EASTERN NORTH AMERICA,” by 
Frank M. Chapman. 

“BIRD LORE,” back and current numbers. 



Names of the observers of certain incidents which appear in these 
stories. 

1. Miss Letitia I. Foster, Cloverdale, Barry Co., Mich. 

2. Judge Harry Creswell, Pres., Grand Rapids, Mich., Audubon 
Society. 

3. Mrs. W. S. Coleman, Grand Rapids, Mich. 

4. Miss L. G. Winegar, Grand Rapids, Mich. 



CONTENTS 



BOOK ONE 


WHAT THE BLUE JAY SAW.. 
THE PIECRUST BREAKFAST 
AN EARLY MORNING CHAT. 

THE CHASE . 

THE RETURN. 


PAGE 
... 9 

... 23 
...90 
...103 
...115 







CONTENTS 



BOOK TWO 


Page 

FENCE POST TWITTERS. 9 

MEETING MORE BIRDS. 20 

IN THE SWAMP. 31 

THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS. 44 

OTHER BIRDS . 57 

SOME BIRD STORIES. 69 

IN THE MORNING. 79 

THE COW-BIRD’S STORY. 93 

AWAY THEY FLY...103 











FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 



BOOK ONE 


Pointed It at My Father. 15 

They Eat Our Eggs Whenever They Can Get Them. 19 

Just at This Moment a Beautiful Bluejay Called Out. 21 

Good People Have Put Up a Wren’s House. 27 

As Soon as the Sun Comes Out It All Will Melt Away. 29 

At Last She Saw Some Horses Feeding in a Meadow. 41 

The Cowbird Never Builds a Nest. 47 

Mr. and Mrs. Oriole. 53 

The Red-Breasted Grosbeak—You Will Find That Bathing Place... 61 
Up the Tree in Which Mrs. Wren’s House Was Perched. 74 

A Handsome Red-Winged Blackbird Lit on the Limb Near Mrs. 
Robin . 91 

His Name Is Kingfisher. 9 7 

A Large Bird Which Was Circling About.Ill 


















FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 



BOOK TWO 


Mr. Robin was a Proud and Happy Husband... 8 

There Was a Humming Bird Caught in a Big, Thick Spider Web.... 23 

You Should See the Blackbirds Going to Roost... 33 

Said Mr. Robin, That Was a Blue Heron.. 47 

The Pet Crow Steals Bright Things Out of the House. 55 

Mrs. Oriole Makes Her Nest Like a Deep Cup Hung From the Limb.. 61 

He’s Been Calling That Way Since Dawn. 81 

For That Is His True Name, Catbird. 87 

The Other Mocking Birds of Which You Speak. 91 
































BOOK ONE 






I 













“That may be true ” said Mrs. Robin 


8 




We were such hungry little beggars 


WHAT THE BLUEJAY SAW 

4 4 T "Y 7 HAT DO you think of this place?” 

VV asked Mr. Robin as he warbled the 
last notes of his merry morning song. 

“ 0 , this is just right,” twittered Mrs. 
Robin. 


9 


10 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Just right?” repeated her happy husband, 
“I hope you may always feel that way about 
it and not wish you were somewhere else 
after the nest is built and the eggs are laid.” 

“Indeed, I never will,” the good little wife 
went on, “because this orchard, standing on 
top of a hill, as it does, gives us a fine view 
of the rest of the world.” 

Mr. Robin’s plans were more sensible, how¬ 
ever, and he replied with an extra twitch or 
two of his brown tail, “I don’t care whether I 
look at the whole world or not, but I am glad 
that there is a fine garden on the other side 
of the orchard fence, and later when we are 
busy, it will be much better not to have to fly 
half around the farm in order to find a place 
where slugs are plentiful. This orchard is so 
close to the garden that it is just the right 
kind of place for birds and there should be 
a great many here this summer. 




WHAT THE BLUEJAY SAW 


11 



Mrs. Robin was standing on the very top¬ 
most limb of the apple tree which her hus¬ 
band had chosen as their home and she heard, 
without thinking about it, the happy talk 
about the near-by garden. She was enjoying 
to the full the privilege over which she had 
been so happy, “looking down on the rest of 
the world.” 

“I think,” she began when Robin’s voice 
ceased, “there is something familiar about 
this place. I really believe it is the very spot 




12 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


where I was hatched last summer. Yes, yes, 
I am certain of it, for there is the same house 
where the people lived who used to drive the 
cats and other cruel creatures away when my 
brothers and I were learning - to fly. I can¬ 
not be mistaken for the house stood on a hill 
overlooking a beautiful little lake, just as 
that one does. The people used to sit on the 
porch and watch the boats on the water. 0, 
but I’m glad we came here.” 

“Well, even if it is the same house and 
porch and water, the same people may not 
live there,” said the wise Robin who knew 
much more about humans than did his 
younger wife. “People don’t always stay 
right on in the same nest year after year any 
more than birds do. So it may be that there 
are mean people living there now who will try 
to drive us away for fear we will get a cherry 
or a berry now and then.” 




WHAT THE BLUEJAY SAW 


13 


“Just as if we haven’t a right to their many 
cherries and berries,” chirped his wife 
angrily, “I wonder how much fruit they’d 
have anyway if we birds didn’t act as police¬ 
men and destroy the thieving creatures who 
are always busy around their trees and 
vines.” 

“Of course, of course,” scolded Mr. Robin, 
“but you see many humans don’t know that, 
they think everything belongs to them, even 
the air, the sunshine and the rain.” 

“What ignorant creatures they must be,” 
said Mrs. Robin. 

“So they are, so they are, my dear, the most 
ignorant creatures ever made and yet they 
think themselves the wisest. They think 
they know everything, and yet, really it is so 
strange, there are more things they don’t 
know than there are things they do know.” 




14 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“That may all be true,” said Mrs. Robin 
cocking her head wisely, “but at the same 
time they are bigger and stronger than we 
are and I’ve heard that they can hurt us very 
easily.” 

“Indeed they can, my dear little wife, and 
I, for one, have learned that they are good 
creatures to keep away from. Isn’t it queer 
that big beings like they are should care to 
trouble helpless little creatures like us? The 
summer that I was hatched a man took one of 
those long black things they love to carry 
around with them, and of which I have been 
afraid ever since, pointed it at my father un¬ 
til it made a great noise, and then poor father 
fell down dead. As we were very little birds 
mother had a hard time bringing us up. I 
can never forget how she worked, we were 
such hungry little beggars and one of us, 





















16 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


smaller and weaker than the others, didn’t 
push up in front and get his full share of 
worms, so that he finally died, poor birdlet.”* 

“What a sad story,” said his kind hearted 
wife, “but all humans are not like that bad 
man, remember. Those who lived here last 
year were not, and if they are still in that 
house we’ll be sure to have a happy summer. 
I heard mother tell how kind and thoughtful 
they were to her and our father when they 
first set up housekeeping, and I well remem¬ 
ber one day when I was just learning to fly 
one of those big things they call a squirrel, 
came running at me. I shut my eyes, and 
thought I was just as good as caught, but one 
of the little humans, mother called him a boy, 
threw a stick at the squirrel and drove him 
away.” 

“A boy, indeed!” chirped Mr. Robin, “I 




WHAT THE BLUEJAY SAW 


17 


know what they are, they steal your eggs and 
catch you if they get a chance." 

“It must be then that boys are not all 
alike,” returned Mrs. Robin, “for this one 
certainly saved me from that mean squirrel. 
I should not have lived to tell the tale if it 
hadn’t been for that good boy.” 

“0, you had all your fright for nothing,” 
said Mr. Robin, “the squirrel wouldn’t have 
hurt you anyway, they eat our eggs when¬ 
ever they can get them, but I have never 
known one to eat a bird.” 

“But,” objected Mrs. Robin, “they have 
strong teeth with which they break open hard 
nuts, so I don’t see why they can’t eat tender 
young birds.” 

“Perhaps they can, but I’m very sure they 
don’t,” said Mr. Robin in his most positive 
manner. 





18 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


Just at this moment a beautiful Blue Jay, 
that had been perched for several minutes on 
the next apple tree, called out in his loudest 
tones: 

“0, brother Robin, you know very little 
about the red squirrels, if you are saying 
what you really believe.” 

“I never say anything else,” returned 
Robin, rather crossly. 

“Then you have not seen much of squir¬ 
rels,” the Jay went on good-naturedly, “last 
summer a bold, impudent, red squirrel came 
to our home when our little ones were only 
a day old and carried off the biggest fattest 
nestling of the lot.” 

“You surprise me,” exclaimed the Robin, 
“but tell me did you see him really eat the 
little bird?” 

“Well, hardly,” retorted the Blue jay jump- 







19 


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20 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 




ing around in excitement, “not only my mate] 
and I rushed at him, but our cries brought to 
us all the Bluejays and other birds in that 
part of the wood. Then some humans rushed 
out of a big white rag house they live in—” 

“0 yes, a tent,” interrupted Mr. Robin. 

“I don’t know what they called it, but I sup-| 
pose you know as you are around among 
them so much and are older than I am, but 
anyway, we all made such a fuss, birds and 
humans together, and the humans threw 
sticks and stones at the Squirrel, that by and 
by he dropped the bird and ran off where we 
couldn’t find him.” 

“What became of the poor baby?” asked 
Mrs. Robin. 

“0, it was quite dead from the fall.” re¬ 
turned the Jay, “so don’t ever tell anyone 
again that squirrels will not bother young 




•»** 






SIS 




Just at this moment a beautiful Blue jay called out 

21 











































22 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


birds, because this is the truth that I am tell¬ 
ing 1 you.” < x > 

“So, you see, dear Robin,” said his wife lov¬ 
ingly, “I would not have been with you here 
this morning, if it had not been for that dear 
little boy.” 

“I wish I knew where he is, Fd sing a song 
to him to pay him for saving you for me,” 
chirped Mr. Robin. 

His little wife, however, only half heard his 
remark, as she was looking fixedly toward 
the house on the hill. 




THE PIE CRUST BREAKFAST 



The chipping Sparrow 


TI THEN THE Bluejay had received the 
* * thanks of Mr. Robin for his informa¬ 
tion about the squirrel he flew away and the 
Robin then turned his attention to his little 
wife. She spoke out eagerly: 

“0, yes, Robin dear, the same people are in 
that house, I am sure. Do you see those long 
white threads hanging from the porch? I 
have heard my mother say that the people 


23 


24 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


used to put threads out for the birds to work 
into their nests. How good it is that we have 
come early this year and so have found this 
tree close to the house before some other 
birds had settled on it. 

“Yes, but don’t you think it would be a good 
plan for you to get to work on the nest be¬ 
fore some other birds come along and start 
a nest in the very spot we have selected? 
There isn’t a thing here to show that we have 
chosen this place and I must say, we are not 
the only Robins in the world that prefer the 
forks of an apple tree to any other place for 
a home.” 

“You are right as usual, dear Robin, so I’ll 
be off,” and away she flew to find some sticks 
as a foundation for the new home. 




THE PIE CRUST BREAKFAST 


25 


In a very few moments Mrs. Robin re¬ 
turned with several good sized sticks in her 
bill. As she was putting them carefully in 
place Robin asked in surprise: 

“How did you find all those sticks so 
quickly?” 

“I had the good luck to come upon a big 
heap of them,” she answered. “Those good 
people have put up a Wren’s house and have 
made the opening so small that only a Wren 
can get through it. Nearly all of the sticks 
the Wrens bring cannot be pushed through 
the opening. They work with them a long 
time, then they get discouraged and drop 
them on the ground and that is where I found 
them. I am so glad because they will make 
my work much easier.”* 






26 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“All right,” said Mr. Robin, “I am glad to 
hear it, I know where that Wren’s house is, 
for the little fellow sings all the time and you 
could not miss his home if you should try.” 

The work on the nest went on rapidly and 
when the Robins tucked their heads under 
their wings that night, the nest was far 
enough along to prevent any other bird from 
choosing the forks in that apple tree. 

When the Robins awoke at dawn they were 
a very surprised pair, for they found the 
whole world white. 

“0, 0, 0!” twittered Mrs. Robin in great 
surprise, “what has happened to every¬ 
thing?” 

“Why, my dear,” said the older and wiser 
husband, “don’t you know what that is? 
Have you never seen snow before?” 














































28 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“No indeed,” was the answer, “so that is 
snow! Of course IVe heard about it from my 
mother, but I was hatched too late last year 
to see any. What are we to do with every¬ 
thing- covered up in this way? We shall 
starve to death, I am sure, and of course I 
cannot finish the nest, what a strange, 
strange state we are in,” and the frightened 
little creature almost fell off from the limb in 
her anxiety. 

“There, there, my dear, don’t worry,” con¬ 
soled Mr. Robin, “the snow will not stay long. 
As soon as that great warmer, the sun, 
comes out it will all disappear.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Mrs. Robin doubt¬ 
fully, “how can it be? What has the sun to 
do with it anyway?” 




As soon as the sun comes out it all will melt away 












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30 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“I cannot explain it to you, I only know that 
it is so.” 

“Have you ever seen it do that way?” 

“0 yes, indeed, last year we had a very late 
spring, the snow came two or three times, but 
as soon as the sun came out it all went away.” 

“But where did it go?” 

“That is a question that I cannot answer, 
my dear, I only know that it vanished.” 

“But I am hungry and there isn’t a thing 
to eat in sight, every bug and worm is cov¬ 
ered up.” 

“We will fly down to the back door of the 
house, if those people are as good as you 
think they are they must have thrown some¬ 
thing out for us to eat.” 

With these words Mr. Robin flew away, and 
his little wife thought it wise to follow him. 




THE PIE CRUST BREAKFAST 


31 


The first thing they saw when they lit on 
the ground near the door was a big square 
piece of pie crust; the filling had been 
scooped out, and the crust, which by some ac¬ 
cident had been only half baked had been 
thrown out on the ground. The Robins at 
once jumped upon the big crust and began 
their breakfast. 

“I believe I’d rather have a good fat slug,” 
said Mr. Robin, as he swallowed a big beak¬ 
ful of the soft stuff, “but then this is a great 
deal better than no breakfast at all.” 

“Why of course it is,” chirped Mrs. Robin 
softly, “and I think we ought to love these 
good people for all their kindness to us.” 

Mr. Robin, however, had no time to' discuss 
the goodness of anyone, he was too busy fill- 




32 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


ing up his empty crop. They were rapidly 
making away with the big pie-crust, when 
down in front of them dropped a pair of 
Wrens. 

“Bad morning for birds,” said Mrs. Jennie 
Wren as she and her merry husband added 
their bills to the inroad of the pie-crust. 

“So it is,” returned Mr. Robin, “but this 
makes a very fair breakfast on a snowy 
morning, and I’m sure there’s enough here 
for all of us.” 

“I hope so,” said Mr. Wren, “for although 
I am very hungry, I don’t like to feel that I 
am robbing anyone.” 

At that moment they heard the shrill call 
of the Bluejay as he lit on the roof of the 
shed near which their breakfast was spread. 




THE PIE CRUST BREAKFAST 


33 


“I wonder if he is coming too,” asked Mrs. 
Robin. 

“He is calling his mate,” said Jennie Wren, 
“he is a very polite fellow and will not eat 
without her.”* 

“I have heard very bad stories about him,” 
said Mr. Robin, “that he steals eggs and I 
have always been a little afraid of him.” 

“He surely is a fine bird to look at,” said 
Mrs. Robin pausing in her meal and turning 
her head to get a good look at his beautiful 
color. 

“There, there,” chirped Mr. Robin, “never 
you mind his good looks.” 

“But,” said Mrs. Robin, “what can be any 
prettier than waiting for his mate before he 
goes to breakfast, and I dare say he is just 




34 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


as hungry as you were when you flew off 
without waiting to see whether I was coming 
or not.” 

Just what Mr. Robin would have said in re¬ 
ply is not known, for at this moment the two 
Bluejays flew down to enjoy the pie-crust. 

“I hope there is room for us,” said the Jay 
politely, as he took a dainty nibble of the pie¬ 
crust and immediately fed it to his waiting 
wife. (2) 

“0 yes,” said the Robin good naturedly, 
“my wife and I were the first ones to find this 
breakfast table, but we have had nearly 
enough, so we will leave you soon.” 

Just then a hungry little Chipping Sparrow 
appeared among the birds. 

“Well, well,” chirped the Robin loudly, 
“two Wrens, two Bluejays, two Robins, and 




THE PIE CRUST BREAKFAST 


35 


one Sparrow, but see the sun is shining now, 
the snow will soon be gone, so I think I can 
bear it until I find a worm.” 

“So can I,” said Mrs. Robin, and away they 
flew together. 

The other birds, however, were still too 
hungry to leave the queer feast, so they 
stayed and ate until there was not a crumb 
of the soft pie crust left. (1) 





THE FINISHED NEST 



1% /T R. ROBIN proved a true prophet, in less 
than an hour after the pie-crust 
breakfast was over, not a trace of the snow 
remained except in the deep woods or in some 
sheltered corners of the orchard. The birds 
were as happy as creatures could be. The 
Robin sang with all his might, the Wren war- 


36 



THE FINISHED NEST 


37 



Could be heard the plaintive “Et-se-wee-ah” of the Meadow Lark 


bled as if his little body would burst, the Blue- 
jay called his loudest, the little chipping spar¬ 
row added his feeble trill, while in the wide 
meadow beyond the orchard could be heard 
the plaintive “et-se-dee-ah” of the meadow 
lark. 

The nest-building went on swiftly while 
Mr. Robin sang his best. His wife knew that 
there was no time to lose, the nest must be 
ready for the eggs which she must lay be- 





38 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


fore she could begin her long time of patient 
waiting. 

“I think,” she said, one morning as she 
stood looking her nest over, “there should be 
a strong firm horse-hair twisted about the 
edge of the nest. I wish I knew just where to 
find one.” 

“That’s not so easy,” said Mr. Robin, “but 
if you cannot find one you may find some 
string that will do.” 

“Very well,” said his wife, “But anyhow 
I’m going off to find a horse hair if I possibly 
can.” 

She flew out of the orchard and past the 
barn for the people who lived in the house 
on the hill did not keep horses. Her bright 
eyes were looking, looking everywhere but 




THE FINISHED NEST 


39 


not a horse hair could she see. At last she 
saw some horses feeding in a meadow far 
away and saying to herself, “I can surely 
find one there,” away she went on hopeful 
wings. 

The horses were gathered in a fence 
corner near some tall blackberry bushes, and 
little Mrs. Robin was pretty sure there would 
be some hairs caught in these briery bushes. 
Her bright eyes soon spied a long white 
string hanging from one of the higher twigs. 
“If I can’t get a horse hair, this string is the 
next best thing,” she said to herself. 

She flew to the bush, caught the end of the 
string in her bill, looped it up and pulled on 
it with all her might, but the wind had twisted 
the string around and around the twig so 




40 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


that all the bird’s strength could not loosen 
it. Then she did a very wise thing 1 , she threw 
herself off the limb, thus bringing all the 
weight of her plump little body on the 
string.* It broke in two and she flew away as 
happy a little bird as you ever saw. Mr. 
Robin flew to meet her when she came near 
the nest and he broke into a happy song as 
soon as they came to the home tree. Mrs. 
Robin could not sing as did her gay husband 
but she was quite as happy because she had 
found exactly what she wanted. 

“Do you know” she said as she stood on the 
edge of the nest a moment before beginning 
the work of twisting the string into place, 
“I flew clear through the orchard, and it is 
just full of birds, I didn’t know there were so 







At last she saw some horses feeding in a meadow 


41 












42 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


many birds in the world. I wonder why they 
all seem to flock to this orchard, I should 
think they would rather be in the deep 
woods.” 

“Then why aren’t we in the deep woods, 
too, if that is the best place for birds?” asked 
her husband. 

“Why, I don’t know I am sure,” answered 
his good wife dropping her head in a 
thoughtful manner, “I never thought about it 
in that way. I supposed that we came here 
near a house, because we were hatched in 
that kind of a place. I know that I was 
hatched in this very tree as I have told you 
before, and I suppose you were hatched in 
a tree near some other house, so that is why 
you like this kind of a place.” 




THE FINISHED NEST 


43 


“There is a deeper reason than that, my 
dear,” said Mr. Robin wisely. “Very few birds 
go to the deep woods, for the simple reason 
that there is very little food for them there. 
They follow around where humans work the 
soil, stir it up with the plough and plant the 
seeds in it. Then the insects come and the 
birds depend on them for food. It is the same 
way with fruit, men plant the fruit trees, 
then the insects come to live in the branches 
and they make good fat living for the birds. 
If it were not for us there wouldn’t be trees 
or in fact green things of any kind, for the 
insects would soon have them all killed, so 
that is the reason why birds flock around 
where humans live, instead of wandering off 
in the deep woods where the ground is never 




44 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


stirred up for planting - , and so of course in¬ 
sects are scarce. When you think of the hun¬ 
gry bills we shall soon have to fill you will 
see we could not stay in a place of that kind.” 

“Well, well,” said Mrs. Robin, “how very 
very wise you are dear Robin, I had never 
thought about all that before.” 

Just at this moment there was a great com¬ 
motion in the trees near by for all the birds 
seemed chirping at once. Mrs. Robin paused 
in her work of weaving in the string to won¬ 
der what was going on, and her husband tell¬ 
ing her that he would go and find out for her, 
since she could not leave her work, flew off 
out of sight. 

“Of course he doesn’t care what is the mat¬ 
ter, he is going just for me, he hasn’t any 




THE FINISHED NEST 


45 


curiosity himself. 0 no,” she said to herself, 
with a funny little twitter which was her only 
way of laughing. 

It must be confessed that the busy wife 
would have gone off among the other birds if 
she had not known that the nest must be 
finished. She worked the string into the edge 
of the nest and when that task was finished 
she jumped into the nest and with her 
soft breast pressed it into a perfect 
shape. Then she climbed out and standing 
on the edge looked down into it chirping 
softly to herself as if she were saying, “It is 
all right now, nothing can make it any bet¬ 
ter.” . 

At this moment she heard the whirr of Mr. 
Robin’s wings close beside her. He chirped 




46 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


away in a scolding tone for a few moments, 
while his wife in her softest tones tried to 
quiet him. At last he stopped his scolding 
and gave his tail an angry fling. 

“What in the world have they been doing 
to you, Robin?” she asked. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” was his answer, 
“when I came where they were I heard the 
Bluejays scolding about a big Cow-bird who 
had gone into a bush where the Chipping 
Sparrow has its nest.” 

“Well, what harm could they do?” asked his 
wife. “Isn’t a big bush strong enough for 
two nests?” 

“Yes, but you see, the Cow-bird never 
builds a nest. She is a lazy creature who lays 
her eggs in the nests of other birds.” 






47 



48 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“0, dear, 0 dear, what a dreadful thing’!” 

“Didn’t you ever hear of that before?” 
asked the husband wisely. 

“No indeed,” was the answer, “I didn’t 
know there was such a bird.” 

“0, my dear little wife, how true it is that 
you have much yet to learn.” 

“Well,” retorted Mrs. Robin a little crossly, 
“I don’t know that I am in any great hurry to 
learn about birds who steal into other bird’s 
nests and lay their eggs there, but why were 
the birds all making such a fuss? I was 
afraid they were hurting you.” 

“0, no,” exclaimed the proud fellow perk¬ 
ing his head high in the air, “no birds ever 
bother me, not even the English Sparrow, al¬ 
though they do make themselves very dis- 




THE FINISHED NEST 


49 


agreeable to many birds, but I have learned 
to fight them so they let me alone.” 

“But what was all the noise about?” 

“0, some of us were just scolding over 
things in general. Of course I had to listen 
to the Bluejays’ story about the Cow-bird, 
and some other birds came along and we had 
a great time gossiping over all the wrongs 
done in the bird world by Cow-birds and 
others. One little Yellow bird told such a 
queer story about a Cow-bird dropping an 
egg into her nest. She built her nest over it 
so that the Cow-bird’s egg was out of sight, 
then along came the Cow-bird and dropped 
in another egg and then she built over it 
again, so that she had a three storied nest, 
and then the Cow-bird let the nest alone.” 




50 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“But what did you do to plan things 
right.” 

“0, nothing, how could we?” 

“Why didn’t you go into the bush and drive 
the Cow-bird away?” 

“0, we couldn’t do that, the bird who owned 
the nest should have stayed at home and 
watched it just as I have been watching our 
home here for the last three or four days.” 

“Well, then if you couldn’t do any thing to 
keep the Cow-bird from his bad tricks, I don’t 
see why you wasted your time scolding about 
it. You might better have been here helping 
me twist this string into the new nest.” 

“I am sure you didn’t need any help,” he 
answered in his most flattering tones, “I 
never saw anything more beautiful than this 




THE FINISHED NEST 


51 


nest. It is wonderful indeed, especially since 
it is the first one you have ever built.” 

“I am glad it pleases you,” said Mrs. Robin 
proudly, “although it cannot compare with 
the one Mrs. Oriole is hanging from the elm 
tree near the house, nor with the one the little 
Vireo is building here in our own orchard. 
They are the most beautiful things I ever 
saw and I know I can never equal either one 
of them if I should build a hundred nests.” 

“Of course not,” said her husband tenderly, 
“because you are a Robin and neither an 
Oriole nor a Vireo.” 

“Well, I have done my best, and I am glad 
you are satisfied, I am sure it is not done any 
too early. I shall sleep in the nest tonight, 
and in the morning I think there will be an 
egg in the nest.” 




52 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“And it will not be laid by a Cow-bird 
either,” said the happy husband. 

“What will the Chipping Sparrow do with 
the Cow-bird’s egg, will she put it out of the 
nest?” asked the wife anxiously. 

“No,” was the reply, “it is too big for that. 
If she has no eggs of her own in the nest she 
will perhaps build her nest over it, if she has 
her own eggs already there she will just go 
on sitting and hatch out the Cow-bird’s egg 
with her own.” 

“I do think that is the strangest thing I 
ever heard of, but perhaps the Chipping bird 
will learn after this to stay with her nest 
when it is built.” 

“Well, maybe so, but then you know, there 
are some creatures who never learn, and I 























54 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


have heard it said that there are some 
humans like that, they just go right on all 
their lives making the same mistakes over 
and over, so it isn’t so strange in a foolish lit¬ 
tle bird like the Chipping Sparrow,” he added 
wisely. 

Mrs. Robin, however, only half heard the 
latter part of this sermon, for the sun 
was down and she had already jumped into 
her nest and put her head under her wing. 

Mr. Robin sang a few low notes of his good 
night song, then moving along on the limb of 
the tree until he was as close as possible to 
the new nest he also put his head under his 
wing and all was quiet at the Orchard Home. 





SOME BOY STORIES 



The Chewick is a most sociable bird 


4 T THE first peep of dawn, Mr. Robin 
gave the opening notes of the usual 
morning chorus. His wife awoke at once and 
hopped out of the nest with a merry twitter, 
which was the best she could do in the way of 
a song. 

Robin peered over into the nest as his wife 
left it, and there, true enough, was the very 
thing she had promised, a little blue egg. 


55 


56 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


Wasn’t Mr. Robin proud and happy? In¬ 
deed he was, and he joined with all his might 
in the orchard chorus which was now well 
under way, from Wren, Bluebird, Thrush, 
Song Sparrow, Vireo, Oriole, Bobolink, Mea¬ 
dow Lark, Catbird and Blackbird, each doing 
his best to outsing his neighbor, while the 
strange cry of the Flicker rose now and then 
above all other sounds. The concert con¬ 
tinued fast and merrily until the sun had sent 
its warm beams over the earth. Then the 
business of the bird world began and the joy¬ 
ous chorus was over. Now and then, it is 
true, a solitary singer lifted his voice, but 
with the shining of the sun most of the birds 
began the serious business of the day. No 
young birds had yet been hatched. Indeed, 
in many cases the place for the nest had not 




SOME BOY STORIES 


57 


been chosen and some of the loudest singers 
and most gayly dressed males had not even 
selected their mates. Mr. and Mrs. Robin 
were ahead of most of the other birds, since 
their nest was finished and held one egg. 

As they stood near their home, guarding 
it from all harm, a handsome rose-breasted 
Grosbeak lit on a branch near them and in 
his most civil manner asked the happy couple 
if they could direct him to a good bathing 
place. 

“Why, that reminds me,” answered Mrs. 
Robin, “last summer there was a fine bathing 
place some distance back from the house 
which stands on the hill. I have heard my 
mother say that the good people who lived in 
the house had made it for the birds.” 




58 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Do you think you can show me the place?” 
asked the Grosbeak. 

“Well, I haven’t seen it this year,” an¬ 
swered Mrs. Robin, “the truth is, I have been 
so busy nest building that I have taken my 
baths just wherever and whenever it hap¬ 
pened, and have not taken the time to look 
for the last year’s bathing place, but if you 
fly down back of the house, no doubt, you will 
see the birds going there. I know that is the 
way they used to do last summer.” 

“But, how can you be sure that things are 
just as they were last summer? Human be¬ 
ings, I have been told, change and move 
about a great deal, although the poor things 
haven’t any wings.” 

“So they do, so they do, but at the same 
time, I know, in many ways, that the same 





SOME BOY STORIES 


59 


good people are in that house, and so, I am 
sure, if you look around you will find that fine 
bathing place.” 

So with this, the Grosbeak had to be con¬ 
tent, for Mrs. Robin did not intend to wander 
very far from her nest and its one egg. 

As the Grosbeak flew away, Mr. Robin de¬ 
clared that he was ready for his breakfast. 

“You stay here, little wife,” he said, “while 
I go after some worms and I will soon return 
with some for you.” 

So Mrs. Robin nestled down on the limb of 
the apple tree, close to the nest with the one 
precious egg in it. While she was waiting 
there so contentedly a Chewink came flying 
that way and seeing Mrs. Robin sitting alone 
he stopped for a moment’s chat, for the Che¬ 
wink is a most sociable fellow. 




60 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Such a queer thing happened out there in 
the field,” he said to Mrs. Robin, “would you 
like to hear about it?” 

“Of course I would,” was the answer, “al¬ 
though I have to stay at home so very closely, 
I always like to know what is going on in the 
great world.” 

“Some boys and girls were marching 
through the field and—” 

“0 dear me,” interrupted Mrs. Robin with a 
shiver of fear, “boys and girls, that is dread¬ 
ful news, I do hope they’ll not come here.” 

“No,” said the Chewink, “they have gone 
away off to the other side of the field, but 
when I have told you just what happened you 
will not think they are such dreadful crea¬ 
tures. A little sparrow had built her nest 
close to a stump and it was right in the path 





The Redbreasted Grosbeak—you will find that bathing place 


61 

















































































62 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


the children were taking. Of course, when 
the boys and girls came, the poor little birds 
flew about in great distress for the heedless 
children were quite likely to step upon the 
nest; then, one little boy, hearing the cries, 
left the line where he was marching and 
called to the children as they came along to 
walk on the other side of the stump.” 

“And did they do it?” asked Mrs. Robin, 
trembling with anxiety. 

“Yes, they seemed to think he had been 
placed there by someone to tell them where 
to go and so, every one of that big crowd of 
girls and boys went on the other side of the 
stump, leaving the Sparrow’s nest safe and 
sound in the tall grass. When the whole 
crowd had passed on to the farther side of 
the field where they were to play and sing a 




SOME BOY STORIES 


63 


while, the little boy had to run as fast as he 
could to catch up with them.” 

“Dear me, I wonder if he was scolded for 
not keeping up with the others.” 

“I dare say he was, but I don’t believe he 
cared, because you see, he had saved the 
Sparrow’s home.” 

“I didn’t suppose boys ever did anything 
so kind as that and I hope this boy will always 
have a good home.” 

“I hope so too, I am sure he deserves it,” 
said the Chewink, “I must confess his act was 
a surprise to me, although I have seen a few 
boys who were careful of birds and their 
nests.”* 

Just at this moment Mr. Robin returned 
with a fat worm which he fed to his wife, and 




64 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


of course, he had to be told the story of the 
boy who had guarded the Sparrow’s nest. 

“What a pity it is,” he said, “that we cannot 
know that boy when we see him. We have 
all been taught to be afraid of boys and how 
fine it would be if we could learn the differ¬ 
ence between the good ones and the bad 
ones.” 

“Well, I saw him,” said the Chewink, “and 
I must confess that he didn’t look in any way 
different from others I have seen, so you bet¬ 
ter not let the boys come too near you after 
all.” And with this warning, the Chewink 
flew away. 

Mrs. Robin, who was a loving little crea¬ 
ture, told to every bird who came near the 
story of the boy guardian, but as soon as she 
was done talking, Mr. Robin would repeat the 




SOME BOY STORIES 


65 


Chewink’s last warning, adding for himself 
the wise remark, that boys had for so long 
borne the reputation of being cruel to birds 
that they must not expect the birds to forget 
all at once their past evil deeds. 

When he made this cautious remark to sev¬ 
eral of his bird friends his kind hearted wife 
said, “0, Robin dear, don’t you think you are 
too suspicious of those poor things you call 
boys?” 

Mr. Robin gave his handsome body an 
angry fling as he answered: 

“Indeed, I am not, I must now tell you a 
story, when I was a very little bird, before 
I had even tried to fly, a great big boy 
climbed up in the tree where our home was 
placed. Perhaps he didn’t mean to hurt us 
but he wanted to look at our home. He didn’t 




66 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


seem to know that our nest was put up high 
just so he couldn’t see into it. Our homes be¬ 
long to us and neither boys nor men have any 
right to pry into them, but they don’t think 
of that. So up the boy came and as he was 
very big and heavy he shook the limb on 
which the nest was placed so hard that one 
of my brothers was knocked out of the nest 
and the fall on the hard ground killed him.” 

“Wasn’t the boy sorry?” 

“Yes, he seemed to be, but that didn’t com¬ 
fort my unhappy father and mother, or bring 
back the poor little life he had taken away.”* 






THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 



The Squirrel ran up the trunk of the tree 


4 T THE conclusion of this sad story Mrs. 
-E*- Robin sat very quiet for a few moments, 
then, she said thoughtfully: 

“How fine it would be if all boys loved us 
and befriended us whenever they had a 
chance.” 

“Yes,” said her husband, “if they did and 
would, you could fly away with me and pick 
up your own dinner, but now you have to stay 
here and watch that one precious egg.” 


67 


68 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“0, no, Robin/’ the thoughtful wife an¬ 
swered, “you forget that we have other 
enemies than boys, don’t lay all the wrong 
things to them. There are birds and other 
creatures who do quite as much harm to us 
as the boys.”. 

“That is true, little wife,” answered Mr. 
Robin, “you are always able to see all sides 
of a question.” And with these kind words he 
flew away leaving his wife to meditate upon 
his closing words. He had been gone but a 
few moments, however, when her pleasant 
thoughts were disturbed by a loud noise in 
the trees near by. She was at once all at¬ 
tention, for she was sure the noise must mean 
harm to her husband. She listened intently 
for his voice, but instead of his musical notes 




THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 69 

she heard the scolding tones of the English 
Sparrow. 

“Dear me,” she chirped to herself, “that 
bad busy-body fellow is quarreling again, 
I believe I will just step away from the nest 
a moment and see what is going on.” 

She hopped to the end of the limb on which 
she sat and then saw that an English Spar¬ 
row and a handsome Oriole were having an 
excited discussion. Presently the Sparrow 
flew at the Oriole, but was soon driven off 
by the bigger bird, at this the Sparrow gave 
several loud piercing cries, and a dozen Eng¬ 
lish Sparrows flew to his help. It looked as 
if the Oriole would soon be finished, but out 
of the orchard somewhere came two angry 
Cat-birds, and in the midst of the sharp fight 
which followed, she suddenly saw her hus- 




70 


busy little birds 


band coming toward the battle, a big worm in 
his beak, which she thought was intended for 
her dinner. 

At the sight of the raging battle, his 
fighting nature which is stronger than that 
of almost any other bird, overcame every¬ 
thing else. He dropped the worm to the 
ground and added his sharp bill to the pecks 
on the heads which the Sparrows were receiv¬ 
ing. 

At last the battle was won, the Spar¬ 
rows were driven away and the victorious 
birds alighted in the trees to smooth their 
ruffled plumage. (1) Mrs. Robin immediately 
remembered her duties as sentinel and hur¬ 
ried back to her post. She was none too soon 
for a handsome Bluejay had just alighted 





THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 71 


near the nest, but on catching sight of Mrs. 
Robin, he immediately flew away. 

“Dear me,” twittered the little house¬ 
keeper, her heart trembling with fear, “how 
dreadful it would have been if Mr. Bluejay 
had eaten my precious egg, what would dear 
Robin have said to me? I will never, never, 
leave the nest again, not even if all the birds 
in the orchard are mixed up in one great 
fight.”' 

As these thoughts went through her small 
head she moved even closer to the nest than 
she had been before and she really meant to 
stay there. The time dragged slowly, how¬ 
ever, and it seemed to her that it took Robin 
a long while to hunt up another worm. She 
might have been perfectly contented to wait 




72 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


for him if she hadn’t grown so decidedly hun¬ 
gry. 

“I will just fly into the next tree,” she said 
to herself, “I can see the house and the 
grounds around it better from there, and per¬ 
haps I can catch sight of Robin coming back 
with my dinner, at the same time I shall be 
close enough to the home tree to see if any 
creature comes near the nest.” 

She carried out her plan exactly and just as 
she lit on a limb which gave her a wide out¬ 
look, a big, fat red Squirrel ran up the trunk 
of the tree in which the Wren’s house was 
perched. When Mrs. Robin caught sight of 
the Red Squirrel she was frightened, you may 
be sure, for whenever she saw one her 
thoughts flew back to the time in her early 
life when she came so near furnishing a fine 




THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 73 


mouthful for a member of that family. She 
was not frightened for herself for she knew 
she was more than a match for the naughty 
fellow. But she felt sure that he was not 
sneaking up the Wren’s house for any good, 
so she decided to watch him. 

“The Wrens are so small,” she said to her¬ 
self, “they will not dare to try to drive him 
off, perhaps they will need my help.” 

At that very moment out of the wren house 
came Madam Jennie Wren and dashed at Mr. 
Squirrel, giving him a sharp peck on the head 
which caused him to turn about and slide 
down the tree-trunk much faster than he had 
sneaked up. Madam Wren was not done with 
him, however, she continued to chase him 
and as they came under the tree where Mr. 
Wren sat preening his feathers, he gave up 





Up the tree in which Mrs. Wren's house was perched 


74 





THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 75 

•the pleasure of making his toilet and joined 
in the chase. Away they all went, the two 
Wrens scolding with all their might, and 
though Mr. Squirrel’s feet twinkled pretty 
rapidly, they were no match for the wings of 
the Wrens and so, every now and then, one or 
the other of them darted at him with a sharp 
peck on his round, red head. They disap¬ 
peared around the house, and then reap¬ 
peared again on the side near where Mrs. 
Robin sat and then, Mr. Squirrel dashed into 
the orchard. 

Mrs. Robin was keeping her eye well 
upon him and she saw him suddenly bob 
into a hole in a dead apple tree. The 
Wrens seemed much surprised at his quick 
disappearance, but after looking around a 
few moments they seemed to think the battle 




76 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


was won and they returned to the home tree 
where Mr. Wren rejoiced over the victory in 
one of his best concert solos. Mrs. Robin re¬ 
turned to her post feeling very happy, for she 
was quite sure that particular red Squirrel 
would avoid that particular corner of the or¬ 
chard for the rest of the summer.* 

“Now/’ said the good little wife to herself 
as she settled down as close to the nest, as she 
could get, “if Robin would only fly home with 
a big fat worm in his beak I am sure I should 
be perfectly happy and contented.” 

At this moment she heard a faint rustle on 
the ground beneath her, and looking down 
in a tremor of fear she saw two little girls 
peering around on the ground. 

“0, just girls,” thought Mrs. Robin quite 
relieved, “they will do no harm to anyone. 




THE WRENS AND THE RED SQUIRRELS 77 


They are looking for flowers, I suppose, al¬ 
though I should think they would be satisfied 
with what they have, for their hands are full 
of them. She heard them laughing and talk¬ 
ing, but as she could not understand what 
they were saying, she paid no further atten¬ 
tion to them and they soon passed out of her 
sight and hearing. The orchard seemed very 
quiet after they had gone on and she won¬ 
dered if it wouldn’t be a good plan to take a 
little nap to make the time pass more swiftly 
while waiting for Robin. She was just about 
to put her head under her wing when some 
loud and piercing cries from the Bluejays 
startled her so much that she nearly fell off 
the limb on which she was perched. 

“Now, what’s the matter?” she twittered, 
“I do hope Robin is not in any trouble.” 




* 



78 

























THE BLUEJAY’S STORY. 



4 LL THOUGHTS of a nap were banished 
from Mrs. Robin’s head, when she heard 
the cries of the Bluejays. She listened closely 
but could not hear Robin’s note. She knew, 
however, that some dreadful thing had be¬ 
fallen the Bluejays. If she had been able to 
distinguish any other bird’s notes she would 
have flown to them at once to inquire into the 
matter, but she had been taught that Blue- 


79 


80 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


jays were good birds to keep away from. So 
she just sat there humped up in a little heap 
and quietly waited for the trouble to end. 

It was some time before the cries ceased, 
and, in a moment or two after silence came, 
Mrs. Robin was much surprised to see hand¬ 
some Mr. Bluejay alight on a limb, a little 
above her, where he could look down into her 
nest and see the one small treasure which it 
held. 

Mrs. Robin trembled a little with fear, al¬ 
though she tried to appear perfectly uncon¬ 
cerned, and for this reason she twittered a 
pleasant, “Good day/’ to Mr. Bluejay. 

“Did you hear the noise?” asked Mr. Blue¬ 
jay, hopping around excitedly. 

“Why, yes,” returned Mrs. Robin, “I 
couldn’t help it very well. I should have of- 




THE BLUEJAY’S STORY 


81 


fered my aid, but I knew you Bluejays were 
perfectly able to take care of yourselves.” 

“Indeed we are, as a rule, but this was a 
very peculiar case.” 

“Do tell me about it,” said Mrs. Robin, mov¬ 
ing a little closer to her nest. 

“I believe you know,” said the Jay, “that 
my mate and I have a nest in a big bush which 
grows near the orchard fence?” 

“No,” was the answer, “I did not know it, 
although I have seen you around here several 
times.” 

“Well,” continued the Blue jay, “we have 
one there, and we thought we had chosen a 
spot where it could not be disturbed.” 

“Are there any eggs in it?” asked Mrs. 


Robin. 




82 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“0 no,” answered Mr. Bluejay, “the nest is 
just finished and a little while ago, when my 
mate and I were sitting on the fence, disturb¬ 
ing no one, along came two little girls, but 
of course we were not afraid, because we 
have been taught that little girls are kind and 
good, but suddenly one of the little girls 
picked up a stone and threw it at the nest. 
For a wonder, the stone hit the nest and down 
it went to the ground.” 

“A little girl!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “I am 
surprised, I didn’t suppose little girls ever did 
things of that kind.” 

“Neither did I, but I am telling you the 
truth. Of course, my mate and I began to 
scream over the loss of our nest and presently 
two other pairs of Jays came flying to us and 




THE BLUEJAY’S STORY 


83 


joined their cries to ours, so that we made 
quite a noise.” 

“I should say you did, I thought all the 
birds in the orchard were in trouble.” 

“Well, it was a good thing,” continued the 
Jay, “for they heard us down at the house and 
the little boy who lives there came running 
to the orchard, when he saw our nest on the 
ground he picked it up most carefully. You 
know Mrs. Bluejay does not weave her nest 
very firmly. Then he made the little girl 
show him where the nest was when she threw 
the stone at it and he climbed on the fence 
and put it back in the very same spot.”* 

“Well, well, well!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, 
“ a boy too, and I am as afraid of them as I 
am of a gun!” 




84 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“But,” said the Bluejay, “you need never be 
afraid of the boy in that house, I know him 
well, for I have lived here now two winters 
to say nothing of the summers. In the win¬ 
ter he puts out food for us to eat and he is so 
kind and good to us that we have decided to 
spend the rest of our days in this orchard in¬ 
stead of flying off to a warmer place in the 
winter as so many Jays do.” 

“But if he is so good, why didn’t he teach 
the little girl better than to throw stones at 
the bird’s nest?” asked Mrs. Robin. 

“0, they don’t belong to each other, you 
must know that the girl lives away down in 
the village, in another nest, or I suppose I 
should say, house. I heard him tell her she 
ought to be ashamed of herself to knock a 
bird’s nest down that way. But she told him 




THE BLUEJAY’S STORY 


85 


it was nothing but a Bluejay’s nest, and they 
are a mean lot of thieves anyway.” 

“0 my!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin admiringly, 
“could you understand what they said?” 

“Yes, you see, I have lived among these 
people so long that I have learned to under¬ 
stand most of their words. He told her the 
Bluejays were not thieves and he said a lot 
more to her which I could not quite under¬ 
stand, and after a while they wandered 
away.” 

Just at this moment Mr. Robin appeared 
with a big worm in his beak, which he at once 
fed to his hungry wife, and then, of course, 
he had to listen to the Bluejay’s story about 
the bad girl, and he said in closing, “I don’t 
think it is fair to give all the Bluejays a bad 




86 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


name just because there is a bad one now and 
then.” 

“You are right, it is not fair,” said Mr. 
Robin, “no more than it would be fair to say 
that all humans are bad just because now and 
then, a bad one comes along with a gun and 
shoots one of us. Then too, all the birds are 
afraid of boys and they are not afraid 
of girls, but here was a girl who was worse 
than the boy.” 

“Which proves,” said the Bluejay, “that we 
should not make any hard and fast rules for 
either birds or humans,” and with this wise 
remark he flew away. 

“That is all very well,” said Mrs. Robin as 
she watched his beautiful blue back disap¬ 
pear among the trees, “but at the same time, 
I noticed that his eyes wandered pretty often 




THE BLUEJAY’S STORY 


87 



1 fear the Red .Squirrel more 


to my one egg in the nest, and, as long as I 
know he is in the neighborhood, I don’t intend 
to get very far from this spot. I did fly into 
the next tree awhile ago to watch for you 
because I was so hungry, but I was in sight 
of the nest all the time.” 

She then told Robin of the way the Wrens 
had routed the Red Squirrel, all of which 
pleased him very much. 

“I fear the Red Squirrel more than I do 
the Jay,” he said, “and I am glad the Wrens 
have driven him away, we now have one 
enemy less.” 






88 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“There are plenty left, though,” twittered 
Mrs. Robin. 

“No matter, if we are brave and watchful 
we can overcome them all.” 

“You are brave, I know, but I do not think 
you are very watchful,” said Mrs. Robin with 
an angry fling of her tail. “You were gone 
a long, long time, leaving me here to watch 
alone.” 

“Well, I knew you were doing your duty,” 
answered Mr. Robin in a loving tone, “and 
you may be sure, if you had given one little 
cry I would have come to you just as fast as 
my wings could have brought me.” 

“But, I might have been killed while you 
were getting here,” she said with another an¬ 
gry fling. 




THE BLUEJAY’S STORY_89 

“0 no,” said her husband, “for I have seen 
you fight pretty hard when there was any real 
danger, and now, as the sun is almost down, 
I will sing you my very best good night song 
to make up for my staying away from you 
so long.” 

“All right, and I will pass the night in the 
nest,” she said. 

“As she settled her plump little body into 
the nest, she twittered softly to herself a few 
notes which meant, “Robin is brave and he 
sings most beautifully, but he can’t lay eggs 
and I can,” and she tucked her little head 
under her wing before Mr. Robin had half 
finished his evening song. 




AN EARLY MORNING CHAT. 



IT THEN Mrs. Robin hopped out of the 
* * nest, early the next morning, Mr. Robin 
who was close by peered over the edge of the 
nest and saw another blue egg snuggled up 
close to the first one. You may be sure he was 
very proud and he at once began to sing his 
loudest notes. At the end of this song, telling 
his wife she should have the finest and fattest 
worm he could find for her breakfast, he flew 
away to make his promise good. 

He had no sooner disappeared than a hand¬ 
some red-winged Blackbird lit on the limb 


90 


-4 handsome Red-ITinged Blackbird lit on the limb near Mrs. Robin 



91 





92 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


near Mrs. Robin and bade her a cheerful 
good morning. 

As she was, at all times, a civil little crea¬ 
ture, she returned the greeting pleasantly 
and then waited for him to open the conver¬ 
sation. 

“Do you know what that sound is?” he 
asked at once. 

“I don’t hear anything,” was the reply, 
“except the Bluebird and the Oriole singing, 
you can hear them at all hours of the day.” 

“But that isn’t what I mean,” explained 
the Blackbird, “Listen now, and you will hear 
it again, there it is!” he exclaimed eagerly. 

“0, do you mean that harsh rattle?” asked 
Mrs. Robin, “I hear that every day, and I al¬ 
ways supposed it was some sort of a noise 




AN EARLY MORNING CHAT 


93 


made by the people who live in the house 
yonder. Humans make all kinds of queer 
sounds, you know, poor things, I suppose they 
do the best they can.” 

“True enough, but this sound is not made 
by a human. If you will move along nearer 
to me, so that you can see through the trees, 
I can show you where the queer noise comes 
from.” 

Mrs. Robin turned her head toward the 
nest, but made neither a reply nor a motion 
to leave her position. The Blackbird noticing 
Mrs. Robin’s slowness to move away from 
her nest, exclaimed. 

“0, you needn’t be afraid of me, I will not 
molest your treasures, I am not that kind of 
a bird, although I have a first cousin who is 




94 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


said to be a bold robber. Come on now, and 
to make sure of my good intentions, you can 
perch between me and your home.” 

Thus assured, the little guardian moved 
along to an opening in the trees. She then 
saw a low white building with a peaked roof 
standing in the water quite close to the shore. 

“0, another house!” she exclaimed in sur¬ 
prise, “I didn’t know that one was there.” 

“It is very plain that you are a quiet little 
home body and do not go flying about 
as do so many mother birds. If you were 
that kind you would know that building is 
nothing but a boathouse. There is water and 
not land under that roof, and there the boats 
can safely ride at anchor and are always dry 
and ready for their owners to use.” 




AN EARLY MORNING CHAT 


95 



Boats can safely ride at anchor 


“How fine/’ said Mrs. Robin, “ Humans are 
quite smart after all, but see, there is a beau¬ 
tiful bird on the peak of the roof, I never saw 
one like him before, such a lovely blue color 
and a handsome crest on top of his head, I 
wonder why I never saw him before? What 
is his name, do you know?” 

“His name is Kingfisher, and the reason 
you have not seen him before is because he 
does not make his nest in the trees or bushes 










96 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


as do most all other birds, and as I have said 
before you do not wander away from home 
very much.” 

“But,” asked Mrs. Robin, in great surprise, 
“if he doesn’t make his nest in the trees or 
bushes what does he do? He surely must 
have a place he calls his home.” 

“Yes, he makes his nest in a hole made by 
some sort of a water animal, in the bank of 
a stream, that is why I know so much about 
him, because I like to be near the water too.” 

“He is a handsome bird,” said Mrs. Robin, 
looking at him intently, “but I think I should 
like him better if his head were not so big.” 

“Well,” said the Blackbird, “as he goes 
head first into the water, perhaps he could not 
do that if his head were like yours or mine.” 







His name is Kingfisher 


97 

































98 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“But, what is he doing now?” asked Mrs. 
Robin, as the Kingfisher stood very still and 
seemed to be watching the water below. 

“He is looking 1 for a fish, see! there he 
goes.” 

Even as the Blackbird said these words the 
Kingfisher made a plunge into the water and 
in a moment or two he came flashing up to the 
roof again with a good-sized fish in his long 
bill, he flopped it quickly against the roof 
on which he sat, then opened his mouth and 
swallowed the fish whole. 

“Well,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “that was a 
big meal to be taken so quickly.” 

“Yes,” said the Blackbird, “he is even 
smarter than we are, we swallow acorns 
whole, (3) but I am very sure we could not 
manage a fish that way.” 




AN EARLY MORNING CHAT 


99 


“But where is he going now?” asked Mrs. 
Robin as the Kingfisher left the roof of the 
boathouse and flew in a straight line along 
the bank for a short distance, when he sud¬ 
denly disappeared. 

“He has gone into his nest in that bank!” 
exclaimed the Blackbird. 

“Does he make it as we do, of sticks and 
mud?” she asked. 

“0, no indeed! Sometimes he puts in dry 
grass, but not always. There is one thing 
though which is always found in the nest of 
the Kingfisher, and that is the bones of the 
fish they have swallowed.” 

“Why,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin in much sur¬ 
prise,” how can that be? I certainly saw him 
swallow that fish, bones and all.” 




100 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Of course, you did, that is the way he al¬ 
ways takes his food, his stomach digests the 
flesh of the fish, but not the bones, they soon 
become soft, however, and they are thrown 
up by the bird in the shape of small pellets, 
these he distributes around on the floor of the 
nest as a soft lining for it.” 

“That is certainly a quick and easy way to 
build a nest,” said Mrs. Robin, “but I do not 
think I should like it so well as my own way.” 

“Neither would I,” said the Blackbird, “and 
besides all that, the Kingfishers are not good 
housekeepers, they never clean their nests 
out as the Robins and the Blackbirds do, but 
there is one good thing to be said about the 
Father Kingfisher, he is kind to his family 
and helps his wife hatch the eggs, which are 
usually five in number.” 




AN EARLY MORNING CHAT 


101 


“You are very kind to tell me so many in¬ 
teresting things about the Kingfisher, I see 
that he is a very smart bird, and whenever 
I hear his harsh call after this I shall peep 
through the trees at him. It seems that he 
doesn’t help along the humans as much as 
the rest of us do, since he doesn’t eat up the 
insects which make them so much trouble.” 

“0, but he does, the Kingfisher likes va¬ 
riety in his food as well as the other birds, he 
eats grasshoppers, lizards, crickets and bee¬ 
tles of the June bug family. Many queer 
stories are told about these birds, by the hu¬ 
mans, so I have heard, but I dare say, none of 
them are really true. Humans are always so 
busy, you know, that they do not take time to 
watch the birds, so they make up very queer 
stories about us. If they would spend more 




102 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


time in studying 1 us it would be better for us 
and also for themselves, but there comes your 
good husband with a worm in his beak, so I 
will just say good morning for this time.” 

“You don’t mean to say you are really 
here?” twittered Mrs. Robin unkindly, 
“Were you waiting for this worm to grow?” 
she added as she snapped her bill over it and 
swallowed it greedily. 




THE CHASE. 



I 3 OOR Robin dropped his wings at this un- 
kind speech and was silent for a minute 
or two, then his wife went on saucily. 

“You haven’t a word to say, I think you 
might at least tell me what you have been 
about.” 

“I will tell you gladly,” said Mr. Robin, lift¬ 
ing his head and singing a few merry notes, 
“I was watching a High-hole, or Flicker, 


103 





104 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


boring a hole high up in a telephone pole, and 
the performance was so very interesting that 
time went by faster than I thought.” 

“Boring a hole high up? why that sounds 
like his name, Highhole, but what was he do¬ 
ing that for?” 

“Making a place for his nest.” 

“You don’t mean to say that a mere bird 
can bore a hole with his beak in the wood, big 
enough for him to go through!” 

“Yes, that’s just what I mean, and while 
I waited there he made a beginning and I 
was so surprised to see him work that, as I 
said before, I forgot for a few moments my 
duties as a husband, but I am sure you will 
forgive me this time.” 

“0 yes, I will forgive you gladly,” said 
Mrs. Robin with a saucy twist of her head, 





/ was watching a Flicker boring a hole in a telephone pole 

105 
































































































































































































106 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“because I had a talk with Mr. Blackbird,, 
and he told me all about the beautiful Mr. 
Kingfisher and the strange things he does.” 

“Kingfisher!” exclaimed Robin, twitching 
his tail angrily, “I hope you didn’t have any¬ 
thing to say to that common fish-eating 
fellow. Why, I don’t believe he would know 
a respectable grub if it was right under his 
eyes. He is not a good mannered bird for 
a genteel lady like yourself.” 

Mrs. Robin, pretending not to hear what he 
said, exclaimed, 

“But now, Robin dear, if you will be so good 
as to stay here awhile and watch our home, 
I believe I will fly away and see the High-hole 
make a high hole,” and without waiting for 
his answer, she spread her wings and in an¬ 
other moment was out of sight. 




THE CHASE 


107 


Mrs. Robin came out of the orchard at a 
point where she could plainly see the tele¬ 
phone pole and there on one of them, directly 
opposite to her, a bird much larger than her¬ 
self, was striking hard and fast on the wood 
of the pole. 

“Dear me,” she chirped softly to herself, 
“I wonder if that is the bird he calls the 
‘High-hole/ why it is nothing in the world but 
one of those Golden winged Woodpeckers. I 
remember, there was a whole nest full of 
them hatched out near our nest last summer, 
but I didn’t know that they could bore holes 
in the wood as that one is doing, for I don’t 
believe I was hatched when they built the 
nest last year.” 

She kept her perch in the tree, watching 
eagerly the work of the Flicker, but suddenly 




108 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


her eyes were turned from it to a pair of birds 
that had alighted on a limb below her. She 
could not see them clearly, but presently the 
male bird began to sing. 

“Oho, that is the Grosbeak,” twittered Mrs. 
Robin, “he is the beautiful fellow that, the 
other day, asked where he could find some 
water. How attentive he is to his wife, going 
around with her while she is finding stuff for 
her nest and singing to her all the while. I 
wish Robin was like that. He seemed to think 
he was doing his duty if he flew to meet me on 
my return with my bill full of building ma¬ 
terial, but then, I must remember, he is a 
Robin and not a Grosbeak and we all have 
our different ways of getting the same sort 
of work done.” 

With this comforting thought she turned 




THE CHASE 


109 


to fly back to her nest, but just at this mo¬ 
ment, she heard a loud squawking near her, 
and full of curiosity to know what the noise 
meant, she changed her course and lit in a 
large oak tree back of the summer cottage. 
She perched on an outside limb where she 
could see whatever was going on and she 
soon discovered the cause of all the noise. 

Two turkey hens with their broods of 
young ones were calling their flocks together, 
and between whiles giving cries of alarm. 
Presently they settled under the very tree 
where Mrs. Robin was perched. She scarcely 
knew what was going on, but she felt sure 
that danger of some sort was quite near. 
Suddenly she discovered, directly above 
them, a large bird which was circling slowly 
about and every moment coming nearer to 




no 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


earth. She was terribly frightened and her 
first thought was that she must fly back to 
her home and the protection of her mate, but 
the next moment her own danger was for¬ 
gotten, for one of the Turkey mothers arose 
quickly to the level of the strange bird and 
with wings outstretched and neck extended 
she seemed about to strike the bold intruder. 
He, however, fully realizing his danger, 
changed his slow poising to swift flight, and 
rising higher in the air darted away with the 
Turkey in close and swift pursuit. 

Poor little Mrs. Robin gave a chirp of relief 
as she watched the two birds sail away into 
space. It was a losing chase from the begin¬ 
ning and the smaller bird was flying toward 
a forest which crowned a far-distant hill. 
Mrs. Robin watched them until they disap- 





A large bird which was circling about 


111 






































































112 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


peared like two black spots within the gloom 
of the forest. She then hurried with all speed 
back to her home, where Robin impatiently 
awaited her coming. He began to ask her 
about her long absence when she interrupt¬ 
ed him to tell her exciting story. 

“0,” said Mr. Robin quietly as she paused 
for breath, “that was a hawk and he was 
after a nice tender young turkey for his 
dinner.” 

“The wicked thing,” said Mrs. Robin angri¬ 
ly, “I hope the mother Turkey will kill him.” 

“0, come now, don’t blame the hawk too 
much,” said Mr. Robin, “remember, he has 
to live as well as you, and he was doing just 
what you do when you dash after a moth, or 
gobble up a caterpillar.” 

Mrs. Robin was silent a moment and then 
chirped out joyfully, 




THE CHASE 


113 


“Well, he didn’t get a young turkey any¬ 
way.” 

“No,” was the answer, “and he’ll have to 
get his dinner somewhere else because he’ll 
have to hide from the mother turkey when 
he’s safe inside the big forest.” 

“Then you think the mother turkey will 
have her chase for nothing?” 

“No, hardly that, because she saved the life 
of her young one, but she will never get the 
hawk. You saw for yourself that her flight 
was no match for that of the hawk.” 

“But she’s so much bigger than the hawk,” 
said Mrs. Robin. 

“Of course, and that is just why she could 
not catch him. I am surprised to learn that 
she could chase him even as far as she did. 




114 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


But what became of her little ones while she 
was off on her wild hawk chase?” 

“0, the other mother turkey who was right 
there brooded them all.” 

“She was a good bird.” 

“Yes, wasn’t she, but Robin don’t you 
think it is time the fly-away turkey is getting 
back?” 

“I don’t know I am sure,” answered Robin 
looking away toward the far-distant forest, 
“that looks to me like a very long flight.” (4) 

“0, well, let’s not worry about her,” said 
Mrs. Robin cheerfully, “her babies are here 
and she will certainly get back just as soon 
as she can. But do tell me, dear Robin, what 
you were about all the while that I was gone. 
I hope you found something to amuse you, 
for I am afraid I was away a very long time.” 




THE RETURN. 



“HO you were,” said Mr. Robin, trying to 
^ look very much abused, “but you know 
I always make the best of my time, so I 
passed the time chatting with a Robin who 
has a nest just back of the cottage and he 
told me an interesting story.” 

“Can you not tell it to me?” 


115 


116 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Yes, if you care to hear it and I suppose 
you do, as you are always ready to listen to 
me when I wish to talk.” 

“Of course I am, dear Robin, why shouldn’t 
I be when you always talk so well?” answered 
Mrs. Robin lovingly. 

Mr. Robin gave his wife’s glossy back a 
gentle stroke with his bill, and then began his 
story. 

“It seems several springs ago this Mrs. 
Robin took a notion to build a nest on top 
of a smooth post.” 

“What a foolish whim,” exclaimed his 
listener, “she ought to have known that was 
impossible.” 

“She didn’t it seems, for she kept on trying, 
some birds, you know, are very stubborn. 




THE RETURN 


117 


The humans must have been watching - her 
and noticed that the sticks which she brought 
fell off about as soon as she laid them down, 
for one day on her return with her beak full 
of stuff, she found some queer things which 
Mr. Robin said were called nails driven into 
the post. Around these some thread was 
wound so there was a short of frame work 
ready for the material she had brought. Mr. 
Robin said it was such a surprise to them both 
that at first they didn’t know what to do. 
They talked about it a long time, looked it 
over, hopped around it, there was just room 
for them to stand outside of the thing, and 
they pulled at the string with all their might 
but could not break it. His wife declared at 
first that she would never build a nest in such 




118 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


a place for it was too much of it human, but 
after spending- one whole day fussing and 
scolding about it she finally seemed to think 
that she must do one of two things, either ac¬ 
cept this help from a human, or else find some 
other place for the nest. She chirped and 
chirped about it, declaring there was no other 
spot in the world which suited here so well 
for a nest as the top of that post. So at last 
she went to work with all her might and built 
there the most beautiful nest that ever was, 
and now, her good husband told me, they 
come back every spring to that very same 
place.” (1) 

“And is it always ready and waiting for 
them?” asked the little wife eagerly. 

“Yes, indeed, it is always there just as they 
left it when the last brood was hatched.” 




THE RETURN 


119 


“But I shouldn’t think it would be very nice 
to live in after it had been rained on and 
snowed on through all the cold winter time.” 

“0, I suppose Mrs. Robin tears it all to 
pieces and then uses the same stuff to build 
it up again, going after new stuff if neces¬ 
sary. I have seen mother birds do that way. 
Then, by giving the nest a new lining, it is 
just as good as ever.” 

“Yes, I suppose it is. I wonder if I will do 
that way when we come back here next 
spring.” 

“I dare say. I know that’s what I would do 
if I were a mother bird.” 

“0, yes, you wise fellow,” said his wife, pok¬ 
ing him lovingly with her bill, “I should feel 
sorry for the little ones if you had to build 




120 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


the nest, but maybe if you had to sit for so 
many days in the nest you would take good 
care to make it comfortable just as I do.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Robin, “but now isn’t 
it time for you to jump into your nest? I am 
all ready to sing you a good night song.” 

“It is nearly bed time,” said Mrs. Robin, but 
instead of going to her nest as her husband 
had suggested, she flew to the very top of the 
old apple tree and looked off toward the for¬ 
est. She was hoping to see that big gray 
form of the turkey sailing slowly toward the 
cottage. But not a bird was in sight against 
the calm evening sky. 

“I suppose all honest, respectable birds 
have gone to roost at this hour,” she thought, 
“and the poor wandering mother Turkey has 




THE RETURN 


121 


her head safely tucked under her wing by 
this time. How lonely she must be in that 
dark forest so far from her little ones.” 

Just at that moment Robin, who had flown 
to a near by fence post to sing his evening 
song, stopped in the middle of his tune and 
called in his most eager tones, 

“Come here! Come here!” 

Very much surprised, Mrs. Robin flew to 
the post and perched close beside her hus¬ 
band. 

“See,” he said, twitching his head toward 
a certain point back of the house, “there she 
comes!” 

Sure enough, there was the mother Turkey 
walking slowly up the hill at the foot of which 
was a wide swamp which she had been 
obliged to cross. 




122 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


“Do you suppose she was too tired to fly 
home?” asked Mrs. Robin anxiously. 

“Perhaps so, and it was a long, long walk 
for her, poor thing.” 

“Well, I was wondering how she could stay 
all night so far from her little ones.” 

“Your wonder is answered, for you see she 
could not do it. How very, very tired she 
looks.” 

They watched her as she came slowly to the 
big oak tree under which she had left her 
young ones, and where there were now no 
turkeys to be seen. She did not halt there a 
moment, but went direct to the poultry house 
and soon by the calling, the peeping and gen¬ 
eral clamor they knew that the mother and 
her brood were re-united. (4) 




THE RETURN 


123 


“But what do you suppose became of the 
hawk?” asked Mrs. Robin. 

“0, he’s out in the forest yet, safe and 
sound, you don’t need to worry about him.” 

“Indeed, I am not so foolish as that, I am 
only afraid he will come back tomorrow 
again after a baby turkey.” 

“No indeed,” said Mr. Robin, “he’ll not 
show up here again right away, and if he 
should get over his fright and venture back 
again by and by, the young turkeys will be 
big enough to take care of themselves.” 

“Yes, and maybe the whole flock will get 
after him and chase him away, wouldn’t that 
be fine?” 

“But he’ll not come unless there are some 
more young turkeys or chickens hatched out 




124 


BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 


so you may never have the pleasure of seeing 
that chase/’ said Mr. Robin. 

“Well, now, I can go to my nest and sleep 
in comfort,” said his wife. 

In another minute she had put her words 
into action and peace and quiet settled over 
their world. 












The Dinner Call 























































































































BOOK TWO 



* 























Mr. Robin fPas a Proud and Happy Husband 







The Robin’s Nest 


FENCE POST TWITTERS 


T HE days went on swiftly and happily to 
the dwellers of The Orchard Home. 
Mrs. Robin watched the nest closely and 
every night saw a new egg added to the nest 


9 





10 


REAL BIRD TALES 


until four beautiful blue eggs were tucked 
away in the place prepared for them with 
so much care. Mr. Robin was a proud and 
happy husband and he spent a good many 
minutes standing on the edge of the nest 
gazing at its precious contents. 

Mrs. Robin was quite as proud and happy 
but the morning after the fourth egg was 
laid she turned her little head on one side 
as she said to her husband in her sweetest 
tones, “Now dear Robin, I have done my 
part. I’ve laid the eggs which must soon 
hatch into lively young robins. If you’ll 
just stay here and watch the nest awhile, so 
as to be sure that no red squirrels, blue jays, 
blackbirds or other thieves can come here 
and harm our nest, I will go in search of 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


11 


my own breakfast, and perhaps when I 
have eaten that I’ll fly around a little, 
just to see what is going on in the world 
today. 

“When Mr. Blackbird was talking to me 
the other day he told me it was fine that I 
was a regular stay-at-home but he seemed 
to think that birds who stay at home as much 
as I do cannot be very learned so as I have 
my long time of sitting before me, I mean 
to see what a little flying around in the world 
will do for me. Perhaps when I return I’ll 
be so learned you’ll be very much pleased.” 

“All right, but do not go too far then,” 
called her husband at his loudest but she was 
out of sight before he had finished his twitter- 




12 


REAL BIRD TALES 


He looked very lonely indeed as he settled 
down on the limb near the nest. 

Perhaps he was wondering what he should 
do with those four beautiful eggs if his little 
wife should get lost and not come back at all. 
But no lonesome thoughts troubled Mrs. 
Robin, as she flew clear out of the orchard 
and down to the lawn in front of the houses 
where she had never failed to find a satisfy¬ 
ing breakfast of angle worms. When she had 
eaten all she wanted she flew to the top of the 
tall white house and looked around. 

It was still early morning and there were 
many birds flitting about, but they all seemed 
too busy to talk to her. Presently she no¬ 
ticed quite close to her, a tall tree stump and 
down its rough side was running, head first, 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


13 



The Chickadee Flew to a Post Quite Near Mrs. Robin 

a small bird clad in black and white. He 
seemed to be picking something very good 
to eat from under the bark of the stump. 
When he had nearly reached the bottom he 
flew to a fence post quite near Mrs. Robin 
and sang out merrily, 

“ ’Tsic-a-dee-dee.” 

“Why,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, turning 
herself around to get a better view of the 
new comer, “you must be a Chickadee!” 

“Indeed, that is just what I am; have you 
never seen a bird like me before?” 




14 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“No, I never have. You see, I am a very 
young bird. I was only hatched late last year, 
but I have heard about you a great deal.” 

“Indeed, and what have you heard about 
me? Only good, I hope.” 

“0 no, nothing bad, only about your funny 
ways, staying all winter where it is cold and 
running down the tree trunks head first. 
Then, too, I have heard about your funny 
song, that is if you can call it a song, but it 
doesn’t compare with the one my husband 
sings.” 

“Of course, I must own up to that. I know 
who you are well enough, you are a mother 
robin. How is it you can leave your family 
and sit here on the fence post so long at your 
ease?” 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


IS 


“My eggs are not hatched yet, in fact 
they are just laid. My nest is back in the 
orchard, and my good husband is watching 
the home while I take a little flight. Do you 
mind telling me where your nest is?” 

“Right over in that stump,” returned the 
Chickadee. “Do you see the little hole near 
the top? That is our front door and my mate 
sits there as happy as can be. She has under 
her warm breast seven white eggs with 
brown specks on them. When they are all 
hatched out don’t you think my mate and I 
will be kept pretty busy feeding all those 
hungry little ones?” 

“What kind of food do you have to find?” 
asked the robin. 

“0, everything that is alive that isn’t too 
big for us to catch; spiders, caterpillars 




16 


REAL BIRD TALES 


worms, grasshoppers, daddy-long-legs, but¬ 
terflies, moths, flies, and all kinds of insect 
eggs and their larvae. Oh! I must say, we 
will be a busy pair when those seven eggs 
have changed into seven wide open mouths 
which need to be filled just so many times a 
day, ‘Tsic-a-dee-dee!’ ” 

“You seem very happy over it all any¬ 
way,” said Mrs. Robin. 

“Of course, who wouldn’t be happy when 
he is alive, has a pair of wings and knows 
just where to find food when he is hungry? 
But then I have had my troubles. Only a 
short time ago a cruel boy killed my mate 
and 0, I tell you, I was sad and lonesome 
enough for a while.” 

“That was too bad,” chirped Mrs. Robin 
in her most sorry tone, “but you found an- 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


17 


other mate, of course, since you say there 
is a nest in the stump with some eggs in it.” 

“Yes, I found another one though it took 
me some time to do so. I don’t know why it 
is, but Chickadees are not so plentiful as 
they were once. My great, great grand¬ 
father, who died just the other day, told me 
that there used to be flocks and flocks of 
them around this creek when he was a 
young bird.” 

“0, is there a creek anywhere around 
here?” asked Mrs. Robin. 

“Yes, indeed, just a short flight across 
the meadow, in that little piece of woods. 
We love to go there, but my mate thought it 
would be better to have our nest in that tall 
stump, so we agreed to build it there.” 




18 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I am sure that was very good for both of 
you,” said Mrs. Robin. 

“Good to ourselves, yes, because when she 
is pleased she’s sure to be happy and con¬ 
tented. But soon I must be looking around 
for something more for her to eat.” 

“Do you ever forget her?” 

“0 never, how could I? Because when 
I am hungry myself, I know she must be the 
same, so I fly and feed her first.” 

“You are indeed a very good husband,” 
said Mrs. Robin with a merry chirp. 

“She will not agree with you unless I 
feed her pretty soon, but before I go I should 
like very much to tell you a story about one 
of those tiny creatures they call Humming 
birds.” 




FENCE POST TWITTERS 


19 


“0, but just wait a minute, until I catch 
that white Butterfly,” said Mrs. Robin, and 
away she flew in swift chase after the dainty 
morsel. 





MEETING MORE BIRDS 



T N a moment or two, Mrs. Robin returned 
clicking her bill happily over her quickly 
found meal. 

“Now,” she said, “I am ready to hear your 
story about the Humming bird,” and she 
settled herself in comfort on the fence post 
again. 

“Yesterday,” continued the Chickadee, “I 
went into a queer, dark place to look for some 


20 


MEETING MORE BIRDS 


21 


spiders and there was a poor little Humming 
bird caught in a big thick spider web. I 
didn’t dare go near it, because I knew I 
couldn’t help it any and might tangle it up 
more, so I flew out into the air as quickly as 
I could and lit on a tree-trunk to see what 1 
could find to take the place of the spider I had 
wanted. While I was busy in this way, the 
first thing I knew there was a human quite 
near me holding that mite of a bird in its 
hand and trying to get the cobweb off its tiny 
legs and body. 

“My! I thought it would never be clean 
again, and as it was lying so still in that big, 
queer hand, I thought the poor little thing 
must be scared out of its wits. After what 
seemed a long, long time the cobweb was all 





22 


REAL BIRD TALES 


wiped away, I suppose, for it flew off into the 
air and its mate, who must have been wait-, 
ing nearby, flew to meet it. They put their 
little bills together and they whirled around 
in the air like two wheels, as if happy with 
joy. My! but I was glad for them. But now 
good bye, I hope we’ll meet again some day,” 
and away the little fellow flew, merrily re¬ 
peating his ‘Tsic-a-dee-dee’.” (4). 

When the Chicadee was gone, Mrs. Robin 
sat for several minutes lost in deep thought. 

“How many good people there are after 
all,” she was saying to herself. “I wonder if 
all the birds everywhere find as many good 
humans as there are around this part of the 
world.” Just at that moment, a tiny Hum¬ 
ming bird flew by. “0, come back!” called 





There Was a Humming Bird Caught in a Big , Thick Spider Web 

23 












































24 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Mrs. Robin eagerly, “Come back, I want to 
talk to you.” 

The humming bird turned herself around 
and lit on a tall weed near the fence post on 
which the Robin was perched. 

“I want to know if you are the Humming 
bird who was caught in that big ugly cobweb 
yesterday?” 

“Yes,” twittered the Humming Bird, “I am 
the very same and I am still surprised to 
think that I am alive.” 

“But do tell me, weren’t you very much 
scared when the human was holding you?” 

“Scared! indeed I was. I thought at one 
time that my heart would break right 
through my body, it beat so fast and hard 
although the hand which picked me off the 
cobweb was very soft and tender.” 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


25 


“But you are all right now?” 

“0 yes indeed I am, and I have the dearest 
little nest in a bush under a big tree down 
near the creek; it is soft and warm inside 
and there is one tiny white egg in it.” 

“How do you make your nest soft and 
warm inside?” 

“0,1 line it with cobwebs. That was what 
I was after when I got caught yesterday. 
That cobweb was too big and strong for me. 
Then I take the down from the thistles and 
the dandelions too. 0,1 think it is the cosiest 
and prettiest little home that you ever saw!” 

“And does your good husband stay with 
you and help you bring up the little ones?” 

“I am sorry to say, he does not. He is a good 
attentive mate until the babies are hatched, 




26 


REAL BIRD TALES 


then he seems to lose interest in his family 
and goes off by himself, leaving me to bring 
up the children as best I can. But now, I 
hear him calling me and I must be good to 
him while I have him with me, so good bye,” 
and with a whirl she was gone. 

“Well, I wouldn’t think much of that kind 
of a husband,” said Mrs. Robin to herself, 
“and perhaps it would be a good thing for 
me to return to my husband and see what 
kind of help he wanted while I was away 
learning.” 

She turned her head toward the orchard, 
but before she spread her wings in flight she 
remembered again that she was soon to be¬ 
gin her long time of staying on the nest and 
that this was her last chance for a far flight 
away from home. 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


27 


“I believe I will just fly down to that creek 
the Chickadee was telling me about and see 
how it looks there,” she thought. She turned 
herself about in the other direction and 
darted away. She had no trouble in finding 
the creek, for though she was only a young 
bird, when she saw the bushes all leaning 
over in one direction, she knew that the creek 
was under them. So in a very short time 
she was sitting all alone on a limb listening 
to the gentle gurgle of the stream. 

She was not left alone long, however, for 
presently she heard a lively chirping quite 
near her and a voice said, 

“How do you do, Madam Robin?” 

“How do you know my name, and who is it 
talking?” asked the Robin wonderingly. 




28 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Everybody knows a mother Robin,” 
said the voice, “and perhaps you will know 
my name if you look at me closely.” 

“But I don’t see you!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Robin quickly as she peered around among 
the shadows. 

“Well, I will come closer,” said the voice, 
and immediately a strange bird sat on the 
limb beside her. 

“Now, tell me what I look like,” he said. 

“You look like a big, black bird,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Robin, still very much surprised. 

“So now, you have my name exactly, Black¬ 
bird, and very glad I am indeed to know you.” 

“Black-bird!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin with a 
puzzled air, “Mr. Blackbird called on me a 
few days ago, but it wasn’t you for that bird 
had beautiful red wings.” 




MEETING MORE BIRDS 


29 


“0,1 know, that is the Red-winged Black¬ 
bird, he is my first cousin. But now, tell me, 
Mrs. Robin, what do you think of this place 
for a nest? Don’t you wish you had built 
here instead of in that orchard on the hill 
so near a house where there are certain to 
be wicked cats about?” 

“How do you know where my nest is?” 
asked the little creature in surprise. 

“0, my cousin, the Redwing, with whom 
you chatted so long about the Kingfisher told 
me about it.” 

“But how do you know that I am the one? 
I should think Mother Robins would all look 
alike to you.” 

“Well, you see they don’t. You never mis¬ 
take any other Robin for your good husband, 
do you?” 




30 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“0 no!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “I can tell 
him anywhere.” 

“Of course, just as I can pick out my mate 
down in yonder swamp where there are hun¬ 
dreds of other Blackbirds.” 





IN THE SWAMP 



Mrs. Robin 


IW RS. Robin jumped around in great 
-*-*-*- eagerness when the Blackbird spoke 
of the swamp. 

“0,” she said, “is there a swamp near 
here?” 

“Yes,” he said, “we think it is one of the 
most beautiful swamps you ever saw. You 


31 



32 


REAL BIRD TALES 


can find it by flying - up this creek, for it rises 
in a cool bubbling spring just at the edge of 
the swamp.” 

“Is that the same swamp which lies beyond 
the orchard, where we are nesting?” asked 
Mrs. Robin. 

“Yes, the very same, and you should see 
the big company of Blackbirds. When they 
are going to roost at night, they are as busy 
as a lot of humans.” 

“I know all about those roosting places. 
Last year there was a Robin’s roosting place 
somewhere near where I was hatched and as 
soon as we nestlings were big enough we had 
to go off with Father Robin and roost there 
every night. 

“I know how the Robins do late in the 
summer or early fall, but in the spring they 







































































































34 


REAL BIRD TALES 


go off each pair by themselves. We Black¬ 
birds are different, we stay together through 
the hatching time. This swamp has been our 
home for many, many years. When we go 
away each fall we say over to each other that 
perhaps before we come back in the spring 
those human creatures called people will get 
to work upon our swamp and destroy it.” 

“Why, I don’t see how they could!” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Robin. 

“But it is possible, and any one would 
know by that speech that you are a very 
young bird! There is just no end to the 
many things which people can do. I have 
heard my great grandfather tell that the 
Blackbirds once owned a beautiful swamp 
where they always spent their summers, and 




IN THE SWAMP 


35 


one year in that wonderful swamp, there was 
hatched out a beautiful, snow-white Black¬ 
bird” 

At this the Robin chirped so loud and hard 
that she nearly fell off the limb. 

“0, you don’t expect me to believe that? 
‘A white Blackbird’ ” she said. 

“But it was just that. The egg was laid by 
a Blackbird, and when the bird was hatched 
out it was as white as snow. It was near the 
nest where my great grandfather was 
hatched. All the birds in the swamp were as 
proud as they could be of the beautiful white 
creature. I have heard that it looked wonder¬ 
ful flying around among all the other 
Blackbirds.” 

“Did it stay white always, or did it turn 
black when it grew older?” 




36 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I cannot tell how it might have changed, 
because one day some men came into the 
swamp, carrying those dreadful things called 
guns, and one of them shot the beautiful 
white creature and carried it away.”* 

“How dreadful!” exclaimed the Robin. 

“Yes, wasn’t it? but a stranger thing than 
that was yet to come. When this flock of 
Blackbirds came back in the spring, their 
beautiful swamp was gone, and instead of the 
great trees where they had been so happy, 
they found houses and people living in 
them.” 

“I don’t see how they could build houses 
on a swamp,” said Mrs. Robin. “I have heard 
my husband say that the ground in swamps 
is wet and soft.” 




IN THE SWAMP 37 



“So it is, but there was a Blue Jay living 
near the swamp and, as he stays around all 
winter and likes to be near people and watch 
them, he told the Blackbirds when they came 
back in the spring just how all the changes 
had been made. He said the people dug 
great, deep ditches in the swamp and so 
drained the water out of it into the river. 







38 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Then they brought great cart loads of good 
dry ground and spread it all over what had 
been wet, black mud, so you see, the place 
was then quite as good as any other to build 
houses upon.” 

“0 yes, I see, but what did all the Black¬ 
birds do then?” 

“They hunted up the swamp where we are 
living now.” 

“I think I will fly over there and see what 
it is like,” said Mrs Robin. 

“See what it is like!” exclaimed the Black¬ 
bird. “Do you mean to tell me that you have 
never been in a swamp?” 

“Never. I know nothing about one, except 
what my husband has told me. He, you 
know, has been everywhere and has seen 
everything.” 




IN THE SWAMP 


39 


“0 yes, yes, I understand and you would 
like to keep up with him, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes, and then there is another reason 
why I want to see the swamp.” 

She then told the story of the mother 
turkey who had chased the hawk. Who, 
Robin had told her, had been obliged to 
cross a big swamp either by flying or walk¬ 
ing, “and so,” she added, “I should like to see 
just what kind of a place it is.” 

“I hope you like it. You will find it is the 
most beautiful place in the world, although 
I am not so sure that you will agree with 
me in that.” 

“I know I shall not,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“because I think the orchard on the hill is 
the most beautiful place in all the world.” 
And with this remark, away she flew. 




40 


REAL BIRD TALES 


The first living 1 creatures seen by Mrs. 
Robin as she entered the swamp, were Black¬ 
birds flying about in every direction hunting 
food. She did not stay long among them, 
but flew farther into the swamp, meeting as 
she went along, many birds whose names she 
did not know. She flew so far and so fast 
that she began to think that maybe she could 
not find her way back, when, suddenly she 
saw the waters of the lake glinting through 
the trees. 

She chirped and twittered in her joy, “Now 
I know where I am.” 

She lit on the branch of a tall tree and 
looked off on the lake. It certainly was a de¬ 
lightful picture. Its waters were as calm and 
bright as a mirror. Then she looked around 




IN THE SWAMP 


41 


on the swamp. The grass grew tall and lush, 
flowers were blooming everywhere and the 
birds were singing from bush and tree. “It 
is indeed a beautiful spot,” she said to her¬ 
self with her best notes, which nearly ap¬ 
proached a song. 

Suddenly she heard a noise quite near her 
and turning about she saw a queer, long- 
legged creature standing in the lake, directly 
beneath her, with its eyes fixed on the water. 

“I wonder what that is?” she thought, 
“surely not a bird, although those things on 
its sides look like wings.” 

While she was watching and wondering 
the queer creature suddenly plunged its beak 
into the water and brought up a good sized 
fish in its long, sharp bill. The next moment 




42 


REAL BIRD TALES 


her doubts as to the creature being a bird 
were scattered, for it spread its immense 
wings and flew across the lake to a distant 
tree where it alighted. 

Mrs. Robin was full of curiosity to know 
whether or not this immense bird nested in 
a tree like an ordinary bird, but she lacked 
the courage to fly after it and find out all 
about its home. 

“It is so big,” she said to herself, “that I 
do not dare to go near it. If it should plunge 
that long bill into me as it did into the fish 
that would be the end of me forever, so I shall 
have to fly along without knowing anything 
about this wonderful bird. Too bad too. 
Why no,”—was her next thought, “I don’t 
need to do that at all, I’ll just fly home and 




IN THE SWAMP 


43 


ask clear Robin all about it, I am sure he 
knows. Anyway it is time for me to return, 
I have been away a long time.” 

So, spreading her wings which seemed 
small to her after seeing those of the long- 
legged bird, she flew swiftly out of the 
swamp straight to the dear old orchard 
home. 





THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 



'll /T R. Robin saw his wife coming when she 
was still a long way off, but he did not 
fly to meet her as was his habit when she was 
building her nest. At that time there was 
nothing to lose, but now the precious eggs 
were to be guarded. He knew she would be 


44 





THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


45 


more pleased with him for watching the eggs 
than she would if he came flying to meet her. 
So, by way of welcome he sent out to her 
his most joyous song and she came flying 
to him chirping her sweetest notes. 

“Well,” he twittered as she took her place 
on the branch as close to him as she could 
possibly get, “you seem to have flown a long 
distance. You went out of the orchard in the 
direction of the road, but you came back 
straight from the swamp. Have you been 
there?” 

“How did you know that, Robin? That’s 
exactly where I have been, and 0, I saw 
the queerest bird standing in the lake, its 
legs were so long that it stood up just like 
a human, and yet, it had wings. It doesn’t 




46 


REAL BIRD TALES 


seem fair for a bird to have wings and such 
long legs too.” 

“What color was the bird?” asked her 
husband. 

“A bluish color and, 0 my, it had the sharp¬ 
est bill you ever saw. It gave me a shiver 
just to see it.” 

“No wonder,” said the husband, “that was 
a Blue Heron, and its bill is a cruel one. If 
you had flown after him you would have 
found his nest in a tall tree and you would 
have seen many other Herons’ nests in the 
same tree. They keep together in flocks just 
as Blackbirds do. They come back to the 
same swamp year after year I have heard.” 

“Why, that is like the Blackbirds too!” 
exclaimed the wife. 
















J 




-~ 






Wfafato//Ar, 




wA'/y'yy. 


y-y-s.y ,v. 




5az7/ Mr. Robin, That 


Was a Blue Heron 


47 
































































































































































48 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“What did you learn about Blackbirds? I 
should like to hear?” asked her husband. 

Mrs. Robin then gave a full history of 
everything that had happened during the 
long summer day. 

“I am glad that you saw and heard so much 
that was new, you are certain to become a 
very well educated bird,” said Mr. Robin. 

“But I am sorry I did not fly after the Blue 
Heron and see what its nest is like, but per¬ 
haps you can tell me.” 

“Yes, and of course you understand that 
a big bird like that must have a big nest. 
It is made of sticks and twigs, but they do not 
build their nests as closely and carefully as 
you build yours. They use the same nests 
year after year, but they clean house and 
patch all holes.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


49 


“0, then it isn’t so bad,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“as it would be to build one of those big nests 
every year.” 

“But tell me, little wife, you have been 
gone a long, long time, have you had plenty 
to eat through all this summer day?” 

“0, indeed I have, food is so plentiful in 
this part of the world, that I haven’t been 
hungry a minute, and how have you fared?” 

“Very good indeed. Of course I couldn’t 
go off in search of food, but it has seemed 
to come in my way every time I was hungry.” 

“That must be because you were doing 
your duty so well.” 

“I hope so. We will think so, anyway, but 
now I have some news for you. Mr. Bluebird 
stopped to chat a moment with me, and the 




50 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Bluebirds in the nest in that box down near 
the house are hatched out.” 

“0 indeed, why how smart they are.” 

“Yes, but you must remember, they were 
already here when we found this spot. Mr. 
Bluebird told me they come here every year. 
So you see, they did not need so much time 
looking up a home as we did. Mr. Bluebird 
said this is the only place where there are 
no English Sparrows and that is why he and 
his wife Come here. He does not like to fight 
as well as I do, so he just keeps away from 
the places where the English Sparrows live.” 

“I have often wondered why there are no 
English Sparrows around here.” 

“Mr. Bluebird says the people in the house 
down there break up their nests and drive 
them off.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


51 


“That seems too bad,” said kind hearted 
Mrs. Robin, “I suppose they like to have 
homes and bring up families as well as the 
rest of us.” 

“Yes, of course, but if the people have to 
choose between Bluebirds and English Spar¬ 
rows, they take the Bluebirds and I think I 
should do that myself.” 

“So would I,” agreed Mrs. Robin, “they are 
not only prettier to look at but the Bluebird’s 
song, though not to be compared with yours, 
dear Robin, is certainly better than the 
Sparrow’s twittering.” 

“But I must tell you that the Bluebird also 
brought me some bad news.” 

“0, 0, tell me quick, what is it?” 

“The people in the house down there 
have a pet Crow, and I am sure that even 




52 


REAL BIRD TALES 


you are old enough to know what a bad 
neighbor a Crow is.” 

“A pet Crow,” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, “I 
never heard of such a thing!” 

“Neither did I before, but the Bluebird says 
it is true.” 

“But what in the world can anyone want 
of a pet Crow? They are ugly, black things 
at the best. If it were a Bluebird now, or a 
Robin, it might seem worth while.” 

“The Bluebird says that if he had known 
the pet Crow was here they would not have 
come back, but they did not discover him 
until Mrs. Bluebird had already laid an egg, 
so then they thought they had better stay.” 

“Well, if he is a pet Crow,” said the hopeful 
little wife, “I dare say he doesn’t go very 
far from home.” 




THE BLUEBIRD’S NEWS 


53 


Just at this moment, Mr. Bluebird lit on a 
limb near them and they at once began to 
ask many eager questions about the pet 
Crow. 

“I will answer your last question first,” said 
the Bluebird, “Why do these people make a 
pet of an ugly Crow? I think it is because 
he does so many funny things. This morning 
a man stood at the gate eating something 
out of his own hand and at the same time 
talking to the man of the house, when all 
of sudden, down came that bad Crow, stuck 
his bill into the stuff the man was holding 
and flew off to the very top of that tall oak 
tree back of the house.” 

“Well, well,” exclaimed both Robins, “I 
hope he’ll not get around here with his 




54 


REAL BIRD TALES 


thieving, but what did the man think of 
that?” 

“0, they all laughed over it and then the 
man went into the house. I suppose they 
gave him his dinner.”* 

“Yes,” said Mr. Robin, “they could give 
the man his dinner, but if the bad Crow 
should come here and steal one of our eggs, 
or into your house and steal one of your 
babies, they couldn’t make it up to us.” 

“No,” said the Bluebird, “and I heard them 
scolding about him this morning. It seems 
he steals bright things out of the house and 
puts them in an old pump down by the barn. 
The men upset the pump and picked up a lot 
of bright things off the ground and then 
carried the pump away, so that Jack, that is 





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The Pet Croiv Steals Bright Things Out of the House 


55 




















































































































56 


REAL BIRD TALES 


the Crow’s name, couldn’t have a place to 
hide things.”* And at the end of this story 
the sociable Bluebird flew away. 








OTHER BIRDS 



r I ^ HE days which followed were much alike 
to Mrs. Robin, but they were not lack¬ 
ing in variety to her husband. He sang his 
loudest and best and fed her regularly. Al¬ 
though he did not go far from the nest, even 
when searching for food, he saw many of the 
other birds with which the orchard thronged 
and since he was a sociable fellow they had 
many merry times together. Nearly every 
day when he was digging for worms on the 
lawn in front of the house he saw the pet 


57 


58 


REAL BIRD TALES 


crow, but the friendly “Caw, Caw” met only 
silence from him. 

“He is not my kind,” said Mr. Robin, one 
morning to little Mr. Wren, whom he met 
upon the lawn, when the Crow was loudly 
calling, “Caw, Caw, Caw,” from the peak of 
the barn. “It is better to treat him coldly 
now than it would be to let him hang around 
us and find out where our nests are.” 

“He already knows where mine is,” said the 
Wren, “all the world knows that.” 

“Yes,” agreed the Robin, “but it will do him 
no good to stay around your house now, for 
he knows he is too big to get through the 
door, and I do not think he will trouble you 
much, even after your little ones are hatched 
out. He knows what will happen to him if 




OTHER BIRDS 


59 


he comes hanging around your home. Your 
attack on the Red Squirrel some time ago was 
the talk of the orchard.” 

The Wren plumed himself at these words 
of praise and then flying to the roof of his 
house, he sang a merry song while the Robin 
having pulled out of the lawn a long fat 
earthworm, hurried with all speed to feed it 
to his wife. 

As he was leaving the home tree, soon 
afterward, in search of more food he met a 
beautiful Baltimore Oriole who stopped for 
a chat and the Robin immediately gave a 
few warning notes about the pet Crow. 

“0, he can’t trouble us,” said the Oriole, 
“my wife you know makes her nest like a 
deep cup hung from a limb, and I don’t think 
he can get at the eggs. But I should think 




60 


REAL BIRD TALES 


you would fear him, since your nest is so 
shallow.” 

“Yes, but we watch it closely, and my wife 
has decided that when our little ones are 
hatched we will go farther into the middle of 
the orchard and she will build a new nest for 
the next brood. Of course that is a great deal 
of work and something which we do not 
always do, but she thinks she would rather 
build a dozen new nests than to lose even one 
precious egg.” 

“I think she would, for every one knows 
what good and careful mother birds belong 
to the Robin family. I suppose I ought to 
add that you make good fathers too. You 
stay around home and look after your family 
better than we Orioles do. We like to have a 
good time.” 








61 






62 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I like to have a good time too/' said the 
Robin, “but you see, we have different ideas 
as to what makes a good time. Mine comes 
when we have a nest full of little ones to care 
for.” 

At this moment they heard a faint tapping 
near them and then a gentle voice said, “Yes, 
Mr. Robin, that is true, we all have different 
ideas of a good time. To me it means tap¬ 
ping this big, round, apple-tree trunk to get 
its rich sap.” 

“Why, I always supposed you were after 
insects, when you made holes in the trees that 
way,” said the Oriole. 

“Of course we take insects when we find 
them, but our real reason for making holes 
in the trees is to get the sweet sap which is 
hidden under the bark.” 




OTHER BIRDS 


63 


“It is a great surprise to me to hear you say 
that,” said the Oriole, “for I have always 
heard that birds like you who tapped trees 
were after insects which were hidden under 
the bark.” 

“0, yes, I see, you have mixed me up with 
my first cousins the Woodpeckers.” 

“But you are a Woodpecker too, are you 
not?” 

“I suppose I am, some people call me that 
and of course, I do peck the wood, but my cor¬ 
rect name is Sapsucker. There are a great 
many Woodpeckers, the most common of 
which are the Red-headed and the Downy.” 

“That must be the little black and white 
fellow with the red band around his neck,” 
said the Robin, “I have often seen him tap¬ 
ping the trees. Does he eat the sap too? 




64 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“0 no, he eats nothing but the insects he 
finds under the bark.” 

“I have seen that big kind you speak 
about,” said the Oriole, “with the bright red 
head.” 

“Yes,” replied the Sapsucker, “he is truly a 
handsome bird and he is seen almost every¬ 
where, but he is quite unlike the rest of the 
family.” 

“In what way?” asked the Robin. 

“Well, I don’t like to tell stories about my 
relations,” said the Sapsucker, “but it is true 
that this beautiful Red-headed Woodpecker 
does sometimes eat the eggs of other birds. 
It is hard to believe it, but I have seen him 
with my own eyes steal the eggs when there 
was plenty of his favorite food around. So, 




OTHER BIRDS 


65 


he must do it out of pure mischief which is 
something that none of the rest of our family 
could ever do.” 

“I have heard before”, said the Robin, 
“that we should watch out for the Redheaded 
Woodpecker, but I never quite believed it. I 
am very glad to have talked with you, Mr. 
Sapsucker, “since I have learned something 
new. But now it is feeding time, so good bye, 
until some other day.” And with these words 
the Robin flew away. 

“That Robin is such a talkative fellow,” 
said the Oriole, “that I never get a chance to 
say much when he is around, but I would like 
to ask you some questions about yourself.” 

“Well, please do,” said the Sapsucker, “I 
am sure I am willing to tell you all I know.” 

“Do you tap only apple trees?” 




66 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“No/’ said the Sapsucker, “we tap any 
trees which have sap in them, but the trees 
which we like better than others are the pine 
trees, the sugar maples, apples, pears, moun¬ 
tain ash, haw and white birch.” 

“You surprise me,” said the Oriole, “you 
seem to like a good many. I should think 
you’d kill the trees and make the humans 
hate you.” 

“Well,” said the Sapsucker, “if there were 
just one tree in the world we would soon kill 
it, but since there are so many trees, we take 
a little from each and not a great deal from 
any particular one. Then you must remem¬ 
ber, we eat many other things which people 
want to be rid of. We eat ants, beetles, cater¬ 
pillars and flies. So, after all, we are not so 
bad, even if we do, now and then, kill a tree.” 




OTHER BIRDS 


67 


Just at this moment a beautiful song burst 
upon the air and the birds looking around 
saw one much larger than the Oriole' sitting 
on top of the tallest pear tree and singing 
with all his might. He was rusty brown in 
color and as he sat singing on the limb his 
long tail hung gracefully down almost touch¬ 
ing the limb below. 

“My, but that is singing,” said the Downy 
Woodpecker. 

“Very good,” answered the Oriole, “I don’t 
know that I could do much better myself.” 

“Do much better yourself!” screeched the 
little Woodpecker, “I wonder if you think you 
can sing like that?” 

“What is the name of the bird?” asked the 
Oriole, quite anxious to change the subject. 




68 


HEAL BIRD TALES 


“I don’t know, I wish the Robin were here, 
he could tell us I am sure,” answered the 
Woodpecker. At this moment the Robin lit 
on the limb beside the Oriole. 

“What, you two visiting here yet?” he 
asked. 





SOME BIRD STORIES 



T) EFORE either one of the birds could re- 
ply to Robin’s question there came 
again the notes of a sweet song from the top 
of the tall pear tree. When it ended Robin 
exclaimed: 

“A Brown Thrasher, and the first one 
I have heard this year! How I wish he would 
sing again.” 


69 


70 


REAL BIRD TALES 


But even as he spoke there was a rush of 
wings over their heads and the topmost limb 
of the tall pear-tree was empty. 

“That is the worst fault the Brown 
Thrasher has,” said the Robin, “he is the 
finest singer of the whole Thrush family, but 
his song is always too short.” 

“Then I am glad I happened to hear him 
this time,” said the Sapsucker, “but now I 
must leave your delightful company and get 
back to my nest.” 

“Is your nest anywhere around here?” 
asked the Robin. 

“Well, I don’t mind telling you both, since 
neither of you is a robber bird, that there is 
a big basswood stub, just at the edge of the 
woods, on the other side of this orchard. We 
dug a deep hole in this soft basswood, and 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


71 


there on top of the chips, my mate is sitting 
on five white eggs. 

“I am glad to know that you took a dead 
stub in which to dig your nest,” said the 
Oriole. 

“We are not always so careful, but this 
basswood stub happened to please our fancy 
and so there we are.” 

“You admit then that sometimes you do 
dig holes for your nest in good trees?” asked 
the Robin. 

“0 yes, now and then.” 

“And of course the tree dies?” 

“I suppose it does, though we don’t stay 
around long enough to find out.” 

“I am afraid then, Mr. Sapsucker,” con¬ 
tinued the Robin, “that you do more harm 
than good.” 




72 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Perhaps we do,” said the Sapsucker, “but 
what of it? We are here and I suppose we 
will stay. Anyway we have more sense than 
the Whip-Poor-Will and Nighthawk, who al¬ 
though they are first cousins to each other 
are different in many ways.” 

“Yes, I know that,” said the Robin, “yet I 
have heard that there are humans who really 
do not know the difference between them.” 

“I cannot see why they should ever mix 
them up!” exclaimed the Sapsucker. “Of 
course they both lay their eggs flat on the 
ground without protection of any kind, but 
the Whip-poor-will lays her eggs in the 
woods, while the Nighthawk lays hers in an 
open field, sometimes on a bare rock and I 
have even heard of their being laid on the 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


73 


stony roofs of those things called houses 
where the humans stay. There was never 
such a thing as a Nighthawk laying her eggs 
under a tree or even near a bush.” 

“But you know,” said the Robin, “humans 
don’t know all these things.” 

“If they’d use their eyes more they 
would know these things,” replied the Sap- 
sucker crossly. “There is a Whip-poor-will’s 
nest in the woods over beyond the orchard. 
The other day a man came into the woods 
with a gun, and the minute Mrs. Whip-poor- 
will saw him she jumped off the nest, flew 
near the man and pretended to be lame.” 

“What good did that do her?” asked the 
Oriole. 

“Why don’t you see? Humans are always 
anxious to get their hands on a bird, I sup- 




74 


REAL BIRD TALES 


pose because birds have wings and they have 
none, but when the man saw the Whip-poor- 
will limping he thought he could catch her 
easily, so he followed her. She kept a little 
ahead of him making him think she was a 
poor, lame bird, until they were far from the 
nest, then she spread her wings and disap¬ 
peared. I call that a very good joke,” and at 
that Mr. Sapsucker spread his wings and left 
them without a goodbye. 

“Perhaps he thinks that is a joke too,” said 
the Oriole looking after him.” 

“Perhaps it is,” answered the Robin, “but if 
he had not been in such a hurry I could have 
told him a better joke than that, but he didn’t 
even give me time to ask him to wait a 
minute.” 




. SOME BIRD STORIES 


75 


“Well, tell the tale to me”, said the Oriole, 
“you see I am perfectly willing to wait any 
length of time for the sake of hearing a good 
story.” 

“You are certainly a bird of leisure, Mr. 
Oriole, I don’t see how you manage it,” was 
the Robin’s surprised remark. 

“0, it’s easy enough when you just make 
up your mind to it,” chirped the Oriole, and 
then he broke into his most rollicking song. 
The Robin was too polite to interrupt, so he 
waited patiently until the song was over. 

“I know all about that Whip-poor-will’s 
nest the Sapsucker spoke of,” began the 
Robin, and the Oriole was immediately all at¬ 
tention. “It so happens that there are lots of 
ground beetles near the Whip-poor-will’s 




76 


REAL BIRD TALES 


nest and for that reason I am around there 
several times in the day. Yesterday when 
I was near there some children were running 
through the woods and they came bolt on the 
Whip-poor-will and her little ones. They 
stopped just a minute to look at them and 
went right on without touching the birds or 
harming them. 

When I went back there toward night the 
Whip-poor-wills, little and big, were all 
gone. While I was sitting in a tree near by, 
wondering what had become of them, back 
came those same children and some women 
with them. The children pointed to the very 
spot where the nest had been, they couldn’t 
mistake it, you know, because it was close to 
some big black stones. But the women 




SOME BIRD STORIES 


77 


shook their heads and wouldn’t believe the 
children at all. I was sorry for the children 
and wished that I could explain that the chil¬ 
dren were right, and that the mother Whip- 
poor-will had made her little ones run off to 
some other place. They were just about big 
enough to run with the mother’s help push¬ 
ing them along.”* 

“So, because you were not able to tell them 
all about it,” said the Oriole, “I suppose the 
women will always think that the children 
didn’t know what they saw with their own 
eyes.” 

“I suppose so.” 

“Well, then, that was a joke on the women, 
wasn’t it?” asked the Oriole. 




78 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Yes,” returned the Robin, “but my wife 
will not think it much of a lark if I don’t get 
home pretty soon, so good bye for this time,” 
and the Oriole was left to himself. 






IN THE MORNING 



The Wren Was Trilling From the Top of His Dwelling 


rr^HE NEXT morning something hap 
pened. By the time the sun was just 
peeping over the farther side of the swamp, 
Robin had sung his early song and was on 
the lawn in front of the house seeking his 
breakfast. The Wren was trilling from the 
top of his little dwelling and from the peak 


79 



80 


REAL BIRD TALES 


of the barn roof came the loud cawing - of 
Jack the pet crow. Not a human was stirring 
about the place, even the “hired man” had 
not gone to the barn to milk the one cow. 
Music was ringing from bush and tree far 
and near, and for the time being the birds 
owned the earth. Suddenly the Wren darted 
from his post and lit near the Robin. 

“Listen to that bold, bad Crow,” he said. 
“He’s been calling that way ever since the 
first peep of dawn. I suppose he thinks if 
he keeps it up long enough some of us re¬ 
spectable and well-bred birds will answer 
him, but I am sure, I never shall though he 
calls until he drops.” 

“Ho, there he goes!” exclaimed the Robin, 
as something big and black swept over them. 








He’s Been Calling That If ay Since Dawn 


81 












82 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Both birds looked up, expecting to see Jack 
sailing above their heads, but instead, there 
was another Crow and it flew straight to the 
peak of the barn and took its place beside 
Jack who at once ceased his anxious, “Caw, 
Caw!” 

“0, do you see?” said Mr; Robin. “He 
wasn’t calling to any of us at all, he was 
calling a mate.” 

“Well, she has answered him,” said the 
Wren, and both birds looked at the two 
crows, who with their bills together were 
making low sounds. 

“I wonder where she came from,” said the 
Robin. “Isn’t this bad, for now instead of 
one crow to watch out for, there will be two.” 

The Wren was about to add his scolding to 




IN THE MORNING 


83 


that of the Robin when suddenly the two 
black things opened their wings and fled off 
toward the swamp. The Wren and the Robin 
immediately darted to the top of the highest 
tree and watched the Crows until they were 
mere specks beyond the swamp.* 

“They have gone off to build a nest,” said 
the Robin. “Rather late for Crows, but I 
suppose he could not go alone.” 

“Why should they go so far away when 
there are plenty of good nesting places 
around here?” asked the Wren. 

“I have heard,” was the Robin’s answer, 
“that they like to nest in pine or other ever¬ 
green trees, and just beyond that big swamp 
there is a long stretch of evergreens, so I sup¬ 
pose that is where they have gone.” 




84 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Well, I don’t care much why or where they 
have gone,” said the Wren, “if they only stay 
away.” 

“They will do that, for the rest of the sum¬ 
mer, you may be sure,” said the Robin wisely, 
“and after that, we don’t care.” 

“No,” said the Wren, “if they are foolish 
enough to stay here through all the cold 
weather it is nothing to us.” 

“But now for a worm,” said the Robin, “to 
carry to my wife with the good news that 
the ugly black creature of which she was so 
afraid is gone.” 

Breakfast for two being over and the good 
news having been told, Mr. Robin took his 
place near the nest and was about to begin 
one of his best solos when, from a clump of 




IN THE MORNING 


85 


bushes, on the other side of the orchard 
fence, there came a sound which startled 
Mrs. Robin so much that she nearly fell out 
of the nest. 

“0,” she exclaimed, “did you hear that 
dreadful sound, dear Robin? I thought the 
people in the house down there did not allow 
cats around the place.” 

“Cats!” exclaimed Mr. Robin, “what do you 
mean? There are no cats any where about.” 

“But I heard one,” insisted Mrs. Robin. 
“Listen now, and you will hear it too.” 

Mr. Robin sat silent a moment and then 
came the faint mewing which had so scared 
Mrs. Robin. 

“Cheep, cheep, cheep!” called Mr. Robin, 
“0, little wife you are so funny. That was 
not a cat but another bird.” 




86 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“A bird, 0, are you sure? I know you are 
very wise, dear Robin, but it does not seem as 
if a bird could, or would, even if he could, 
make a noise of that kind.” 

“But, it is a bird, my dear, and a harmless 
one too; of that I am certain.” 

“Well,” declared Mrs. Robin, a little un¬ 
kindly, “it’s a disgrace for a bird to make a 
noise like that. It ought to be called a Cat¬ 
bird.” 

This amused Mr. Robin so much that he 
hopped the whole length of the limb, and he 
could not answer her for several minutes, 
finally he managed to say, “What a clever 
little wife you are, for that is his true name, 
Catbird.” 

“I must say, he is well-named,” answered 




For That Is IIis 


True Name, Catbird 



87 






































REAL BIRD TALES 


the wife, “but I do wish he would stop making 
that noise.” 

“Hark,” exclaimed Mr. Robin, and the next 
moment there came a burst of sweet song 
from the same direction. When the singer 
paused for a moment or two, Mrs. Robin said: 

“Now that was something like singing. 
Why Robin dear, I do believe that song was 
almost as beautiful as yours!” 

“Your praise is very fine indeed, my dear,” 
replied Robin, “but the Catbird sings far bet¬ 
ter than I do.” 

“The Catbird!” exclaimed Mrs. Robin, and 
she was silent a moment from pure astonish¬ 
ment, then she said: 

“0, yes, I understand, that is one of your 
jests.” 




IN THE MORNING 


“Indeed darling, that is no joke, that was 
the Catbird who sang so beautifully, but 
now, listen again!” 

This time it was not a “me-ow,” nor a burst 
of music, but a queer sound as if someone 
back in the bushes were breaking up sticks. 

“You don’t mean to tell me, Robin,” said 
the puzzled wife, “that the same bird is mak¬ 
ing all those sounds?” 

“The very same, my dear.” 

“He is something like the big Mocking 
birds which we used to hear in the warm 
country where I flew a while ago with the 
rest of my family.” 

i 

“Yes, he is often called the Mocking bird.” 

Then Mrs. Robin seemed to have a bright 
idea and she said: 




90 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Maybe he is the same bird and comes here 
as the warm weather begins, just as we 
have.” 

“No, you would not think that if you could 
see him. He is much smaller and of a dif¬ 
ferent color, besides he does not sing so 
loudly nor in so many different ways as does 
the other Mocking birds of which you speak. 
I think there must be a pair of Catbirds nest¬ 
ing not far away, and he just happend to stop 
in the clump of willows to sing a little song. 
He may never come near us again.” 

“Well, I don’t care,” said Mrs. Robin, “of 
course his song is fine, but your song suits 
me well enough, and anyway, you never 
sound like a mean cat.” 

Just as she said these words, the mewing 
notes began again and Mrs. Robin begged 





The Other Mocking Birds of Which You Speak 


91 




92 


REAL BIRD TALES 


her husband to sing his loudest to drown 
the cat sound. 

Mr. Robin opened his bill to grant the 
request when a loud Bang, bang! tore 
through the air and seemed to fill the world 
with fright. 





THE COW-BIRD’S STORY 



LORIOUS June! and the earth seemed 
full of birds. Every tree in the orchard, 
as well as in the small piece of woods next 
to it, was thronging with young birds of all 
ages. Their shrill cries for food seemed to 
take the place of the father birds’ songs, for 
• only the worst shirkers among the feathered 
fathers had time for singing. At the orchard 


93 



94 


REAL BIRD TALES 


home Mr. Robin was doing- his best to silence 
the shrill clamor of his four little ones who 
had been coaxed out of the nest by his busy 
wife in order that she might clean and 
repair their home for the next brood. Every¬ 
where the story was the same. Feed, feed, 
feed, seemed to be the continual cry of the 
youngsters, and there was but little time for 
play and idle chat among the old birds. 

One morning, however, the Oriole, who 
always took family cares lightly, and the 
Cow-Bird, who never had any, met on the or¬ 
chard fence and as usual seemed to have 
time for idle conversation. While they were 
talking of the weather and bird affairs in 
general a man came along carrying a long 
black thing on his shoulder. The birds at 
once flew into the thickest part of the trees 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


95 


where they were well-hidden from the man’s 
eyes. When he was out of sight, the Cow- 
Bird said to the Oriole: 

“Do you know what it was that man was 
carrying?” 

“No,” said the Oriole, “I don’t, do you?” 

“Yes, it was a gun.” 

“A gun!” exclaimed the Oriole, “I have 
heard of those. They are dreadful things, 
are they not?” 

“Yes, indeed,” replied the Cow Bird, and 
many days ago when the birds were all 
busy making nests and laying eggs, or sit¬ 
ting on them, a man came along here with 
a gun and shot a Cat Bird that was singing 
in the clump of bushes right beneath us. 
Don’t you remember hearing the noise of 
the gun?” 




96 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Yes, I do remember something about it.” 

“I should think you would remember it, 
there was such a terrible bang that all the 
birds around here were scared nearly to 
death. I was told that Mrs. Robin, of the 
Orchard Grove, nearly fell out of the nest 
because she thought she was shot.” 

“And what became of the Cat Bird?” 
asked the Oriole. 

“0, it was killed, The man was what is 
called a good shot. He took the bird to the 
village with him and it seems the humans 
have something they call a law about shoot¬ 
ing birds and they do some just things to the 
wicked people who kill them. So they took 
this man off somewhere and put him in a 
cage to punish him for shooting the Cat 
Bird.” 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


97 


“Well, wasn’t that fine!” said the Oriole, 
dancing about in his joy, “I have heard that 
people sometimes put birds in cages, so it 
serves them right if they are put into cages 
now and then. But who told you all of 
this?” 

“The Blue Jay, you know he stays here all 
the year around and he hears the people talk 
so much that he understands what they say.” 

“What became of the Cat Bird’s mate?” 
asked the Oriole. 

“0, I never heard about that, I suppose 
she had to bring up her little ones all alone.” 

Just at this moment Mr. Robin lit on the 
fence under the tree and as soon as the 
Oriole saw him he repeated the story he told 
the Cow Bird, who by this time had flown 
away. 




98 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“Well,” said the Robin, “I am glad to hear 
that the man was punished for his wicked¬ 
ness, and I think I’ll go home and tell my 
good wife all about it. She will be glad to 
hear of it, for she was very much scared.” 

“And how about you?” asked the Oriole. 

“Well, I must say, I was frightened too, 
although I had heard guns before, but that 
was the first one that my wife had ever 
heard in her life, and now I think I must 
hurry away from your pleasant company, as 
my young family is waiting for me to feed 
them.” 

As soon as Robin reached the home tree 
and had fed his young charges, he repeated 
the story of the Cat Bird. 

“That’s all very well,” said Mrs. Robin, 
“and I would say, the story is true, because 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


99 


the Blue Jay generally has things correct, 
but I must say, I don’t like to hear of any¬ 
thing coming from the Cow Bird.” 

“0, that is not right,” said Mr. Robin. 

“Perhaps it is, but just now, when I was 
down on the lawn looking for a worm there 
came along a little Chipping Sparrow with 
one of her own birds and a young Cow Bird 
twice as big as she was, and she was feeding 
it and taking as much care of it as if it had 
been her own bird. It kept her very busy 
too.” (1) 

“It was too bad, of course, dear wife, but 
we cannot help it.” 

“Do you think the Chipping Sparrow will 
watch her nest more closely next time?” 
asked Mrs. Robin. 




100 


REAL BIRD TALES 


“I hope so, but I think I am not so sorry 
for the Chipping Sparrow as I am for the 
mother Catbird. Think of her having to 
bring up all those babies alone, just because 
that cruel man shot his gun. If her babies 
are such eaters as ours the poor thing has 
her beak full.” 

“Yes, dear Robin, but I am so glad to 
know that people do care enough about us 
creatures of the woods to punish those who 
harm us. I always supposed that humans 
were so busy with their own affairs that they 
wouldn’t bother about us as much as that.” 

“I think we ought to be quite safe around 
here, after this,” said Mr. Robin. 

“Yes,” was the answer, “and if we have as 
good fortune with the next brood as we have 




THE COW-BIRD’S STORIES 


101 


had with this one, we will come here to live 
next summer. And now, Robin dear, if you 
will stay here and watch the eggs which I 
have laid in the new nest I will go away for 
food this time.” 

She did not wait for her husband to con 
sent or refuse, but was gone like a flash. 











mwm 


BiSt 


:-X; 






' 






mm 




102 










AWAY THEY FLY 



"TV IW RS. ROBIN was away so long that her 
’ husband began to get quite uneasy 
about her; he knew it was time to be off in 
search of food, but he dared not leave the 
nest entirely unguarded. Presently the 
youngsters lifted their heads and gave the 
shrill cry which he understood all too well. 

“0, yes, I know, you are all hungry/’ he 
chirped uneasily, “but there is not a thing 
here for you. We must wait for Mother.” 
At this moment, just as he said this, Mrs. 


103 





104 


REAL BIRD TALES 


Robin flew to the babies and began to feed 
them as quickly as possible. 

Robin knew that it was his place to fly 
away at once after more food, but he was 
full of curiosity to know why his faithful lit¬ 
tle wife had been so long away. 

“I suppose I did stay longer than I ought 
to have done,” explained Mrs. Robin, in an¬ 
swer to his questions. “But you know I be¬ 
gin to sit again tomorrow, and so I flew 
around a little for exercise and I saw some¬ 
thing which I know will interest you. Of 
course you know that the Wrens have a nest 
in a box out near the barn fence. The back 
of the box is some kind of stuff through 
which you can see, so the people climb up on 
the fence to look at the little ones in the 




AWAY THEY FLY 


105 



nest. When I saw a boy standing there 
peeping into the nest I flew into a bush near 
by where I could see what was going on, and 
this is what happened: 

“When the little ones heard their mother 
coming they raised their heads and 
screamed for food, just as our little ones do, 
but when the mother Wren got her eye on the 
boy watching them, she made a funny kind 
of a chirp and down the youngsters’ heads 
dropped while the mother stood there as 
though she had never heard of such a thing 




106 


REAL BIRD TALES 


as feeding young ones. After a long time, 
the boy took the hint and went away. 

“Then the mother Wren fed the babies 
quickly. I stayed there in the trees so long 
watching that I saw this thing happen sev¬ 
eral times. The boy was determined to see 
the little ones fed and the mother was de¬ 
termined that he should not do so. It was 
queer to see how quickly the Wrens minded 
her order. Of course the mother Wren 
didn’t mind my looking at her, but she 
wouldn’t give the little ones anything until 
the boy jumped down where he couldn’t see 
into the nest.” (3) 

“Smart little mother Wren, truly,” said Mr. 
Robin, “I don’t wonder you stayed to watch 
her.” 




AWAY THEY FLY 


107 


“But please tell me, my wise husband, why 
do the humans want to pry into our bird 
homes? Why should they care what we do 
or how we do it? What would they think of 
us if we were always poking around their 
homes and trying to find out every single 
thing they do and say?” 

“My dear little wife, it is very plain that 
you don’t know much about humans. They 
like to understand things. They not only 
look into bird’s ways, but they study and puz¬ 
zle and inquire into everything under the 
sun; they are made that way. We don’t do 
so, because we have all we can do to attend 
to our own affairs.” 

“0, dear Robin, how wise and ready you 
are to explain things to me. I may some day 





108 


REAL BIRD TALES 


be as ready as you are, but I am sure I 
shall never, never, be so wise, much as I 
wish it.” 

“There is one thing sure, little wife,” said 
Robin, giving her a loving little touch with 
his bill, “you can never be wise just by wish¬ 
ing. There is much more to it than that,” 
and with this puzzling sentence he flew 
away on another worm hunt for the little 
ones. 

The following morning Mrs. Robin began 
sitting, this time on five eggs. Mr. Robin 
thus was left with the entire care of the 
young birds, to feed them and to train them 
in flying. So well did he fulfill these duties 
that by the time the second brood was 
hatched, the first brood could fly well and 




AWAY THEY FLY 


109 


feed themselves. This left Mr. Robin free 
to help in the care of the second brood of lit¬ 
tle ones. Everything went well with them 
and by the first of September they were in¬ 
deed a most beautiful family. 

* * * * 



I saw them one chilly morning gathered 
around a mountain ash eating the berries, 
and as I counted them, just eleven, I won¬ 
dered if it was their last meal in the north 
land. Mr. Robin had no song to give, he was 




110 


REAL BIRD TALES 


intent upon one thing, a good, hearty meal. 
But as I watched them fly away I hoped they 
would all return in the spring to make the 
old orchard ring with their songs and our 
eyes glad with the sight of their beauty and 
grace. 













































































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